Harry Potter recommends
by swanpride
Summary: Because of a chance meeting in a toy store, the Dursleys get the opportunity to utilise Harry's fame. Whereas they get more and more money to spend, he ends up living as a prisoner in his own house. AU, No Pairings, Translated by DracaDelirus THANK YOU!
1. The Encounter

**This year, DracaDelirus made me the very best Christmas present a writer can get: A translation of my German story "Harry Potter empfiehlt". Technically, the story is still a WiP, but I only need to write one chapter to finish it, and she has translated everything I have written so far. So I decided to post one chapter each day for the next three weeks. I am fairly optimistic that the story will be completed until them. **

**A special note: I know that ff-readers (myself included) are very wary of OCs. Therefore it is not very endearing to begin my story with one. But I promise you that Midas will become less important from chapter to chapter. I simply needed him because I had to give the Dursleys some magical help. **

**Harry Potter Recommends**

What if the Dursleys realized that they could use Harry's fame to their advantage? An encounter in a toy shop changed Harry's whole childhood, and makes him a prisoner in his own home.

Disclaimer: The usual: I'm not JK Rowling, therefore the characters in this story do not belong to me, with the exception of Midas Fox and some other minor characters.

Note: Well, I actually never intended to write FanFics, but I finally decided that I couldn't grumble about others if I didn't write one of my own.

**Chapter 1: The Encounter**

Midas Fox was an opportunist. Growing up as the son of a wizard and a muggle, he had always had the best from both worlds. After he left Hogwarts, he quickly made a name for himself as the inventor of fantastic toys – by taking the newest ideas from the muggle world and adapting them for the wizarding world. On this day he had gone back again into the muggle world. After He-Who-Can-Not-Be-Named was defeated the year before, toys for babies and toddlers were very much in demand.

The end of the war brought not only a sigh of relief to the wizarding world, but economic relief as well. Quite a lot had to be rebuilt, and the overall celebratory mood made the Galleons flow more generously than they might have otherwise. Now that the danger was over, the wizarding world was ready to start having children again, children who in light of the horrors of the past few years, would more than likely be hopelessly spoilt.

Midas stared thoughtfully at a shelf that held battery-operated plastic toys. He guessed that soon there would be more and more of this type of toy, toys that he could not easily adapt to the magical world, because of its general incompatibility with electronic devices. And then he would be looking for another job.

A loud whining jarred him from his thoughts. In the corner of the toy shop sat probably the fattest baby he had ever seen. Blonde curls stuck out all around his red face, while thick arms swung back and forth hurling wooden forms everywhere, instead of putting the blocks into holes cut into the same shapes were they were intended to go. One of the blocks hit a horse-faced woman, who judging by the blonde hair was probably baby's mother, but this did nothing to stop the baby from throwing more blocks.

"That's alright, my little Duddykins," she calmed him. "That is a very stupid toy, much too easy for such an intelligent boy."

The 'intelligent' boy calmed down only slightly before he began pointing to an enormous teddy bear, in the stuffed animal display. "Gimme! Gimme!" he roared. Midas was happy when a large stocky man with a moustache, apparently the father, finally came forward to intervene, hoping he would be able to end the baby's screaming and bring peace and quiet. It was obvious that the mother hopelessly spoiled the child. But instead of quieting the child, he simply pulled a thick wallet from his pocket and waved to a salesclerk. Disgusted, Midas turned away. It was then he saw the large double stroller parked next to the shelf. The only couple within sight was with the fat baby – but why a double stroller? The baby was big, but not so big that he needed a double stroller, at least not yet.

Midas decided that he couldn't stand the crying any longer. He would have cast a 'Silencio' spell, but Muggle-protection laws prohibited it, so he decided to look at the rest of the toys some other time. From idle curiosity, he glanced in the double stroller as he passed by. In one of the two seats sat a small toddler with black hair who looked at him with big green eyes. Midas froze. After a hurried glance to make sure the couple was still busy catering to the whims of their 'Duddykins', he bent furtively forward and parted the hair of the child's forehead. Yes, he had seen correctly. There it was, the lightning bolt scar, known to everyone in the wizarding world. There before him was Harry Potter himself.

All of a sudden, an idea came to him. If he handled this well, a golden future lay before him. Then he would no longer have to look in the muggle world for good ideas. Instead, he would be swimming in Galleons. Once again, he looked the couple over, but this time more carefully. Although it was quite chilly outside, the woman wore a fashionable blouse instead of a coat, and with her carefully styled hair, she presented the very picture of a doting wife. The man wore a dull gray suit, with an equally boring tie, and a shirt bearing his company's logo, which he proudly puffed out his chest to show off. Importantly he waived his money under the nose of the nearest salesclerk and announced loud enough for the entire store to hear that only the best was good enough for his "Dudders".

Then he compared the picture of the fat baby with that of the small Harry. Duddykins wore a child's denim jacket, which must have been rather expensive indeed, particularly if you considered that the child would certainly outgrow it in only a short time. Underneath it, he wore a brightly printed T-Shirt that was stained all over with chocolate ice cream. He had stopped crying now that his father had given him the teddy bear, but he was no longer paying attention to his new toy. Instead, he was greedily grabbing every toy within reach and then immediately tossing them away.

However, little Harry was dressed in a washed-out baby's one-piece pyjama that was no longer appropriate for a child of two. The ugly yellow-pink garment fit in the length, however in the belly and shoulder area it was far too baggy for such a tiny figure. The only chocolate ice cream mark on his clothes was a suspicious looking fist shaped print. Although the stroller was parked directly in front of the shelf, Harry made no move to touch the toys, even though they were stacked directly in front of his nose. He also did not touch the smeared remnants of the ice cream on the seat next to him. Instead, as soon as he stopped staring questioningly at Midas, he started to play some mysterious game with his fingers. Every now and then, he giggled quietly, and then he looked around to make sure no one was disturbed by the noise.

"What is that boy doing now?" a voice suddenly thundered beside him. The man with the moustache pulled the stroller out of his reach and grumbled something to the effect that because of 'the Freak' they really couldn't go anywhere since he was constantly causing trouble.

It was at this moment that Midas was convinced he had stumbled on a gold mine. Hastily stepping forward he addressed the man, "Excuse me. May I introduce myself? My name is Midas Fox."

The man closed his mouth tight narrowed his eyes and looked at him suspiciously when he heard the unusual name. Distrustfully he scrutinized him from top to bottom. Fortunately, Midas knew how to dress quite well as a Muggle. He was not wearing wizarding robes, but jeans and a shirt. However, both were of good quality. His red-brown hair was parted neatly and his simple eyeglasses gave him a serious appearance.

"Vernon Dursley!" the man rumbled in a tone that clearly said that he did not put up with any nonsense.

"I am pleased to meet you. Mr. Dursley, are you aware that you are sitting on a small fortune?"

"If you are trying to sell me any nonsense, or want to sign me up for something, then you are wasting your time," growled Dursley. But his eyes held a greedy spark that Midas was quick to notice.

"Not at all," he assured him, "I was just wondering if you realized that there are some people who would be willing to pay money to have this child…" he gestured to the stroller, "…advertise their product."

Dursley snorted contemptuously.

"Who would be interested in this dwarf?"

"Here? Probably nobody. But…" Conspiratorially Midas lowered his voice to a whisper, "…in the wizarding world, people would fall all over themselves to buy anything that the boy-who-lived recommended."

Vernon Dursley took a horrified step back and with the same movement pushed his wife and son behind him. Midas knew now that it was time to make a grand exit. He fished a Galleon from his pocket and held it under Dursley's nose. As soon as Dursley saw the gold, his eyes immediately started flash again with greed.

"Think about it. There is a lot more of this where that came from." In a businesslike manner, he pulled out his calling card and handed it to Dursley along with the Galleon. Secretly he congratulated himself that he was one of the few Wizards that owned a phone. He certainly could not have suggested the Dursley's contact him by owl about his proposal.

Dursley stared at him in disgust, but in the end, his greed won. With sharp fingers, he took the calling card, and quickly pocketed the gold. The card he held hesitantly in his hand.

Midas nodded to him politely.

"It was my pleasure to meet you both. I hope to hear from you soon."

With these words, he started to leave, past the salesclerk who was busy keeping an eye on the rampart toddler trying to decide if the possible sale was really worth this kind of disturbance. In the concave mirror hanging from the ceiling, Midas observed the scene behind him. Dursley stood there rigidly at first, but then seemed to be having second thoughts. Hesitantly he put the calling card in his wallet.

Midas smiled in satisfaction as he left the toy store. He was sure they would call him by the end of the week at the latest. Now it was only a matter of making all the necessary preparations, and then Harry Potter would make him a very rich man.


	2. The Decision

**Chapter 2: The Decision**

Vernon Dursley would never have thought that he would have ever considered going into business with a Wizard. But now he sat at the kitchen table and stared at the gold piece, which he had just brought back from the jeweler. When the man had approached him in the toy store he had at first thought he was some kind of canvasser, then he took him for a lunatic, and, in the end, he was still uncertain if the man was playing a stupid joke or making a serious offer. When he brought the gold piece to the jeweler, he had half expected that it would turn out to be a forgery, but that was not the case.

Now he had a dilemma. He would have almost preferred that the man had been joking then he could have just forgotten about the whole incident. But no one would give out a genuine gold piece for a stupid joke. The man must have been serious about the offer, and now he could not decide what he should do.

On one hand, he wanted nothing to do with the wizarding world. The less he saw of those freaks, the better. In addition, he had his good reputation to protect. What would the neighbors think of him if he was seen dealing with such people?

But on the other hand, his well-ordered life had already been made a shambles by his nephew. Maybe he should make the best out of the situation, even if it meant having more contact with those freaks than he would like. If there was a possibility he could become rich – after all gold was gold, no matter where it came from, and he would finally get compensated for the burden he had taken on when he allowed his nephew to come into his home.

Petunia stepped into the kitchen.

"Duddy is finally asleep. But we should consider finding another place for that spawn of the devil to sleep. When he is nearby, it makes Duddy quite nervous. He can probably feel what a mistake of nature he is."

Petunia was right. When the two boys were still completely dependent on her, it had been easier to leave them both in the same room, although as far away from each other as possible. But now, the freak was much more independent. It was quite capable of creeping out of its little crib and sneaking over to Dudley. Only where could they put it? The small bedroom next to Dudley's room was filled from top to bottom with toys. The guest-room had to remain as it was for Marge to sleep in when she came to visit. Perhaps it… No, it was not. Although… the idea of putting him in the shed was quite tempting.

Petunia in the meantime came to realize what her husband was thinking of doing.

"Vernon….you….can't be seriously considering it?"

Vernon Dursley knew his wife well enough to know that after first rejecting it, she would eventually come to like the idea. Normally, in such situations, he would secretly set the events in motion and then present it to her as a fait accompli. But she had a sister who was one… of those people, and she knew more about those freaks and their world than he did, so he wanted to hear her opinion of the situation.

"To tell you the truth, I am." He confirmed. "If advertising contracts are lucrative for celebrities, they should be just as good for us. It could be a very profitable business."

"But…. Dumbledore! He won't ever agree," said Petunia.

Vernon became furious when she implied that the opinion of some freak should influence his decision in any way.

"He left the boy with us, so he has forfeited the right to determine what happens to him.

"But he is such a powerful Wizard!" begged Petunia, fear putting the words into her mouth. But it just made Vernon even more determined.

"This…", he looked at the calling card, "…Midas Fox seems to be quite a clever fellow – for one of those kind. He will find a way to bypass any such difficulties. Dumbledore may be a more powerful… you-know-what… but Potter belongs to us. If he should try to interfere, the law will most certainly be on our side.

"I won't allow it anyway. It will just make Potter even more well known that he already is. Those… People… will knock day and night at our door. The boy will get ideas, and become completely uncontrollable. And what about Duddy? He'll feel neglected. It is already bad enough that Potter claims more attention than he deserves."

Petunia was right. It wouldn't be acceptable to fill Potter's head with the idea that he was something special. But there must certainly be ways and means to keep their contact with these people to a minimum, for if Potter knew for a moment what he was, and above all how famous he was, then he would certainly become more of an annoyance that it would be worth. Pity… that they couldn't pull off the whole thing without his knowledge. Or could they?

"Wait a minute," Vernon said slowly. "Who says that Potter has to know?"

Petunia looked at him confused.

"Of course he will know! He's the one they'll be taking pictures of, right?"

"Yes, but what if he doesn't know what the pictures are for?" Vernon said triumphantly. "Who says that he needs to know at all that photographs are even taken? The pictures won't appear where normal people could see them. It might be easy to hide his…" the last word he spit out with deep dislike, "…fame."

Petunia still looked uncertain, but he had made his decision. Without hesitating, he heaved himself from the kitchen table and went to the telephone.

* * *

Petunia was extremely nervous. Vernon had actually done it, he had called that freak, and now they had already sat for almost an hour in her living room and talked about the details of their agreement. She would have never had thought that she would have ever asked a Wizard to take a seat on her couch. However, she had had no choice. A restaurant would have simply been too public to discuss such a topic.

Midas Fox had been surprised by their strange request to take the photographs without Harry's knowledge, but he had seen no problem with it. They would simply tell the advertizing customers that it was important to not remove Harry from the protection of his home. All photographs would be taken in the Dursley's house with as few people involved as possible. They would simply tell the photographer that they wanted Harry to have as normal a childhood as possible. They would even be able to sell the fact that with Harry's ignorance the pictures would be much more natural.

Midas Fox had been quite busy. He had already discreetly found a company that could not wait to have the boy-who-lived as their spokesman. The sum, which they offered was really impressive. They would be able to afford a new car! New furniture! The pearl necklace she had seen at the jeweler! An expensive holiday! And if the money continued to flow, then they could even afford a bigger house!

Midas Fox already had a lawyer hired who would be able to take care of all the legal matters. This lawyer was, among other things, an expert in how to deal with a Wizard's assets so that their sudden wealth wouldn't draw suspicion from authorities in the normal world. And if someone tried to interfere with what the Dursley's did with Harry, the lawyer would be able to take care of it.

"Basically there is no one who can contest your guardianship of Harry," explained Midas Fox. "The Potters are one of the oldest pure-blood Wizarding families. However, Harry is the last of the line. If there were still relatives, Petunia's claim as his aunt would take priority anyway, even though she is not magical. Harry's parents named a godfather for him, but Sirius Black turned out to be a traitor, and is now serving a life term in Az… in prison."

Up to now Petunia had not interfered and just listened, but now they slowly came to the point about which really worried her.

"And what about Albus Dumbledore? He's the one who left the boy with us!" she argued.

"Well, Dumbledore… that could naturally make serious difficulties for us of course," admitted the Wizard. "But ultimately he was the one who entrusted Harry to you. Did he not?"

"He just left him on our doorstep," Vernon rumbled.

"Excellent!" Petunia and Vernon looked at Midas Fox as if he were mad. They had not found it excellent in the least that they had woken up in the morning to find a baby in the front yard. However, Midas Fox continued with an explanation.

"Quite irresponsible, was it not? To leave a small baby in such a way. And then not just any baby, but the savior of the Wizarding world. Obviously, the old man cannot be trusted to look after a child. Harry would be in great danger in his care. Besides, he is neither a relative, not is he mentioned in the Potter's will. Consequently, he had no right to interfere in Harry's life."

"While we are talking about danger," Petunia jumped in, "How do we protect ourselves from the Wizards? Dumbledore has…oh, it is best to read it for yourself."

Out of her pocket, she pulled out the letter, which had been left with Harry in the basket, and put it on the coffee table. Their guest read over the parchment and then smiled reassuringly.

"I will look into the matter, but I don't think that it will be a problem. There are a lot of protection spells, charms that can hide Harry even from the eyes of Albus Dumbledore. But we will have to be careful to confront the old wizard as open as possible. The ministry and the public opinion will be our best allies to get him out of the picture. As soon as he can no longer argue about the fact that he has no say in what happens with Harry, we can bring you to a secure location where he will never find you. Perhaps a small villa somewhere in the country."

With a drawing room in which she would receive her guest from fine society, and a housemaid, a gardener, and a cook to take care of the hard work, so she could totally dedicate herself to Dudley. It would have a playground and a big swimming pool in which her small treasure could play. And later, perhaps still another holiday home, somewhere in the south. The dream was simply too beautiful, too good not to be true, if the opportunity was offered.


	3. Walsh’s Wonderful Miracle Diapers

_A/n: I have to apologize for the German passage which were still in the last chapter I uploaded. Let me assure you that this was not the result of sloppy work or carelessness. Actually, I was quite stumbled in the beginning, because the document I uploaded HAS no German passages. Looks like the code of the german text which was translated into english is still partly imbedded in the document and made the passages visible. I will look over it extra careful now to make sure that it won't happen again, but since English and German reads more or less the same for me, I may overlook something. Let me assure you, IF there is still a german passage, the part under is the translation of it and if you see one of them pop up in the text, just tell me (preferable in a civil manner), I will remove them as soon as possible. And now: On with the story!_

**Chapter 3: Walsh's Wonderful Miracle Diapers**

On the next Saturday Midas Fox appeared with the contracts and a photographer at the Dursleys. Midas had advised the photographer to look as muggle as he could, so he dressed in white linen trousers and a T-shirt with the label 'Pride of Portree – Pride of me' printed on it. He was still a little too loud for the taste of the Dursleys, but at least he looked like a 'normal' person. Petunia signed the contracts as Harry's guardian and then disappeared with Dudley to the park. She wanted to allow no more contact than absolutely necessary between her little treasure and these people.

Well, actually that was per mutual agreement. Midas would have preferred not to have to deal with the Dursley's either, and would not have, if it didn't mean that he would lose out on so many Galleons. On the other hand, he was very glad that they were so self-righteous and unloving towards Harry. A responsible pair of parents would never have permitted someone to use their child in this manner.

Initially, the Dursley's had wondered if the photographs could just be taken in the garden behind the house. But Midas feared that the activity would draw too much of the neighbor's attention. He was sure that Dumbledore had stationed somebody in the neighborhood, in order to keep an eye on Harry, and he wanted to keep the advertising campaign a secret as long as possible. Midas Fox could well imagine that Dumbledore would try to find a way to stop the advertising campaign. But if Harry's picture appeared in all the newspapers first, then everybody would want him for their advertising, and Dumbledore wouldn't have a chance of stopping it.

Actually, Dumbledore would have only a slim chance to hinder them either way! Midas had been (despite what he said to the Dursleys) not very optimistic when he consulted an old friend about the wards around Privet Drive. But what he learned let him rejoice! It turned out that the complete family was protected as long as Harry was with them. The protection charm was bound to Petunia (and in a lesser degree Dudley) not to a certain place. So not only they did not need Dumbledore's help in order to protect themselves, with Midas knowledge they could also use this protection to keep him out. That was perfect!

Theoretically, Dumbledore had no reasonable chance to hinder them to do whatever they wanted with Harry. But better safe than sorry! To go against Dumbledore you had to create the best preconditions possible, and Midas would never underestimate the value of the surprise factor.

Since the garden was not an option, they moved into the children's room. The photographer was extremely impressed by the enormous number of muggle toys. He eagerly arranged a whole mountain of soft toys in one corner, the big teddy bear that Vernon Dursley had recently bought in the toy store, as an eye-catcher in the center. Then he used a well placed spell to ensure that everything was well lit. Dursley took a very dim view of the use of magic in his house, carried out right before his eyes, but the prospect of the generous fee kept him silent.

Next was Harry, who had been quietly observing the entire operation from his little crib. For a brief moment, Midas actually wished that Petunia Dursley had remained. But since she hadn't, the task fell to him to dress Harry in the Advertiser's product: Walsh's Wonderful Miracle Diapers! At least he didn't have to remove a dirty diaper. Obviously, Harry was already even perfectly capable of going to the potty. The infant reacted indignantly, unwilling to be squeezed back into one again. But in the end, small Harry squatted, dressed only in a cloth diaper in the corner, on his face an indignant grimace, trying desperately to rid himself of the diaper by tugging at the upper edge. But because the miracle diaper, apart from a drying charm and a smell-nothing charm, also had a no-slip charm, he was unsuccessful.

The photographer was not pleased at all. How could he get a good photo shoot, when Harry was obviously less than enthusiastic about the product being promoted? He got together some little colored building blocks and pulled out his magic wand, with the intention to make them fly over the head of the toddler, and so to make him laugh.

Midas grabbed his wrist and shook his head. He had specifically warned the photographer, before coming, against using too much magic. Not only because of the Dursley's reaction to it, but because he didn't want to accidentally draw the attention of any authorities because magic was used in a Muggle house. Sighing, the photographer put the magic wand away again and reached instead for a baby rattle that was lying around, and pressed it into the infant's hand.

Harry dropped the rattle hastily, as if it had burnt his fingers, and once more tugged at the diaper. And he still didn't look even the slightest bit happy. Vernon Dursley, already red in the face, let loose his suppressed fury on his indignant nephew. Midas had to intervene, and fast.

**

* * *

**

Harry did not understand what was wrong. Why had this man put him into a diaper? He should not be in a diaper! He had already learned how to sit himself down on the little potty. He had even already learned to empty the little pot afterwards into the toilet, and even though he was not old enough yet to do it himself, to flush it. If he did not, his aunt would get angry.

He had to get rid of this diaper as fast as possible. What if he had to go? Then he would become quite wet. And he would have to wait until Aunt 'Tunia had time for him. When Dudley wet his diaper, it was always changed immediately, but she only changed his if it really stank.

And this was when he was still allowed to wear diapers. What if they did not take if off him at all? Harry knew only too well, what would happen then. He would have a very sore bottom. And Aunt 'Tunia would get angry with him because he would cry whenever they forced his to sit down somewhere. He wouldn't normally cry, but it would hurt. He had to get rid of this diaper as fast as possible!

Harry was so focused on somehow getting this thing off his body that he was completely surprised when something was pressed into his hand. When he realized it was the rattle, he was frightened, and let it fall. Did this man just want to get him into trouble? The rattle belonged to Dudley. He couldn't touch it. He was strictly forbidden to touch any toys.

Harry tied in vain to continue to take the diaper off. Then the man who had put the thing on him came and knelt before him. Harry looked at him hopefully. Had he finally understood that Harry didn't need a diaper? Would he remove the thing again?

But the man merely lifted the rattle again.

"Listen, Harry," he said in a low voice, "It's okay. Today is a Special Day. Today you must wear a diaper, but for today, you may also play with the rattle. Do you understand? Nobody will get angry with you." Then he pressed the rattle back into his hand.

Harry was surprised for several reasons. Nobody except the Cat Lady that Aunt 'Tunia left him with sometimes, ever talked to him in such a quiet and friendly tone. Uncle Vernon roared and Aunt 'Tunia nagged whenever she spoke with him. Then the man even called him by his name instead of saying 'boy' or 'freak'. Harry liked his name, even if he seldom got to hear it. 'Harry' sounded adult compared to 'Dudders' or 'Duddy'. And now the man said he should even play with the rattle. The rattle that he, as he discovered to his horror, still held in his hand.

He threw an anxious glance to where his Uncle Vernon stood. He looked furious, but he made no move to snatch the coveted toy from his nephew. Carefully Harry shook the rattle a little, looking firmly at his uncle. Still nothing. Apparently, it really was okay. Harry shook the rattle a little more. The plastic beads inside the multicolored ball rattled. Harry began to swing the rattle with even movement. Hey! That was even more fun that he had imagined. From somewhere a harsh light flashed, but Harry did not let it disturb his play.

**

* * *

**

Albus Dumbledore sat with his morning coffee in the great hall and thought again about the somewhat disturbing report that Arabella Figg had sent him the previous day. According to her, many conspicuous people had been coming and going from the Dursleys over the last few days. And whenever they came, Petunia disappeared into the park and left Harry behind with Vernon. In addition, they had recently bought quite a few expensive things, a new car, a pearl necklace, and a child's pool in the garden.

Maybe there was a simple explanation. The Dursley's had always had a rather unpleasant tendency to exclude Harry from all possible family activities. The people visiting could all be business partners of Vernon's and a lucrative business deal could explain the expensive purchases.

But Dumbledore did not think that was the true picture. If it really were business meetings, Petunia would not have left Harry behind. There was always the possibility that he would cry. Even if she did not want to take him with her to the park, she could have taken him to Mrs. Figg. Normally she used any excuse in order to get rid of Harry for a few hours. But now it seemed that she never let Harry out of her sight anymore, except during these strange meetings.

When the daily mail started arriving in the Great Hall, Dumbledore's thoughts were interrupted by the owls. A fine barn owl landed next to him with the current edition of the Daily Prophet. Dumbledore knew that more owls would be waiting for him later when he returned to his office. The owls seem to know to not disturb him with a dozen or more letters, at least until he had had a chance to eat his breakfast in peace. Lost in thought, he paid the owl and scanned the pages of the Daily Prophet for important news. The front page was once again devoted to the steadily declining popularity of Barty Crouch. Since his son had died in Azkaban, many of his methods had been called into question. Dumbledore was basically quite happy about that. Even if he had earned respect for his constant fight against Voldemort, in his own way Crouch was a fanatic, which was something that he had sworn to fight. The current Minister for Magic would be leaving the job soon, and Dumbledore would prefer that someone more flexible than Crouch became his successor.

While Dumbledore read the paper, his thoughts wandered back to Harry. Maybe he should investigate whom these men were who had been visiting Privet Drive. Moody would be pleased to be hired for the job. He would certainly… a picture on page 6 of the Daily Prophet stopped Dumbledore's train of thought. From the page shone a picture of a toddler with messy hair and a lightning bolt scar that he instantly recognized as Harry Potter. Only he was dressed in a diaper and was enthusiastically waving a baby rattle back and forth. Under the picture was the caption: _Nothing less than Miracle Diapers!_

And below in somewhat smaller letters: _Walsh's Miracle Diapers save HARRY POTTER every day from diaper rash and unpleasant odors. HARRY POTTER isn't as happy in any other diaper. These miracle diapers are tear-proof, slip-resistant, and are sure to keep wetness away from baby's sensitive skin. You should do no less for your child, so they can play as carefree as HARRY POTTER._

A murmur rippled through the students, when their otherwise calm and genial headmaster slammed his newspaper down on the table with a loud bang and stormed out of the Great Hall with a dark expression on his face.


	4. Controversy over Harry Potter!

**Chapter 4: Controversy over Harry Potter!**

**Miracle Diaper Advertisement Becomes Advertising Miracle**

Yesterday an advertising campaign for Walshs Miracle Diapers sparked a veritable buying frenzy with the Mothers of the Wizarding world. Within a few hours, the popular diapers were sold out. The reason: A photograph of the Savior of the Wizarding world, Harry Potter. When a reporter from the Daily Prophet asked the mothers what it was about the ad that had persuaded them, she received a variety of answers.

_Molly W: I have seven children, two of them still in diapers, and you can believe me, that is a lot of work. Up to now, I have tried to cope with normal cloth diapers, but as soon as you change one child, the other needs changing too. When I saw the ad, I absolutely had to test the diapers._

_Gesine A: Why even ask? If the diapers are good enough for Harry Potter, they are good enough for my child!_

_Palmona P: Harry Potter is such a celebrity, they wouldn't let him advertise something that is that isn't any good would they?_

_Leonora N: I can't say that I am especially enthusiastic about Harry Potter. But look at the ad. The boy is happy and laughing, and they are guaranteed._

The unbelievable success had already prompted other companies to submit proposals for additional advertising contracts. Midas Fox, Harry's representative in wizard-related affairs, and a good friend of his family, stated yesterday in a press conference held outside Walsh's factory:

"We had not expected such a reaction. Harry's uncle and aunt talked me into this one contract, because they liked the product and because they were concerned about Harry's future. They know how expensive an education can be in the wizarding world, and they already have their own child they must provide for. At the moment, they are financially well off, but you never know what the future may bring."

When asked about future promotional campaigns, he replied:

"So far we have not considered it, but if the product is convincing, then perhaps. We don't want to overwhelm Harry, by any means."

Meanwhile, there were also many criticisms raised. Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts' School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, member of the International Association of Wizards, and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, has petitioned the Ministry's Department that protects the rights of young wizards from parental abuse, to examine Harry's guardianship. He himself would not comment, but a representative of the ministry assured this reporter personally, that they would be looking into the matter.

"To use a small child in this manner is in any case, questionable. We want to make sure that his current guardians (name withheld for privacy reasons) really have Harry's well-being in mind, and not just how much money they can make off from him."

Midas Fox violently denies these allegations.

"A few years ago, Albus Dumbledore left a helpless baby on a doorstep, alone and defenseless, all night long, until his aunt found him the next morning. During the past year, she raised him as if he was her own. And now he has suddenly taken upon himself to put her ability as a mother into doubt?"

He has already tried to enter Harry Potter's home, and take him away from his legal guardian. Only the fact that he could not breech the wards, should point out to everyone who the true menace is to the security of this child."

(From the Daily Prophet, 06.02.1983, written by Morgan A. Vatha)

**

* * *

**

**The boy-who-lived!**

The debate over the custody of Harry Potter brings new surprises each day. On the first day, the Ministry has been divided about which department was responsible for this case, the department for Muggle-Interaction, or the authority in charge of prosecuting criminal proceedings. Ultimately, it was decided that due to the status of and the potential threat to Harry Potter, to settle the case before the full Wizengamot. Naturally, Albus Dumbledore was given leave from his duties during the course of the negotiations.

On the second day, there were heated discussions as the lawyer of Harry's aunt requested that for security reasons, they be questioned not in the Ministry, but at her home. "Of course it's unusual," said a spokesman for the Wizengamot, after he approved the request, "however, we also have the advantages to consider. This way we can see for ourselves first hand, how Harry Potter is treated by his relatives. And the protection of his family remains guaranteed."

During the third day, a third party suddenly announced a claim to the Savior of the Wizarding world. An uncle, five times removed, of the Potter lineage proved to be the closest magical relative. On the fourth day, the claim was dismissed, because his possible past connections with Death Eater circles were proven.

The firth day sparked an outcry in the Wizarding world, when it became known that the man whom the Potter's had chosen as godfather for their son was none other than convicted mass murderer Sirius Black. And now, on the sixth day, another deception committed against the Potters has come to light. Apparently, the Potters had taken precautions in the event of their death. Among other things, they left a vault at Gringotts, in which they have left enough gold to finance the education of their son. While Harry Potter's aunt claims to have no knowledge of the gold, Albus Dumbledore admitted to having the key to the vault in his possession.

"In the will it states that the gold may only be used for Harry's education at Hogwarts, and only after his graduation does it pass into his possession," explained Professor Dumbledore before the Wizengamot. "I would have handed the key over to him, as soon as he began his first year."

Why however, didn't the famous wizard inform Harry's guardian of the existence of the gold? Did he possibly plan to keep Harry's inheritance from him? Up to now, the negotiations have thrown a very bad light on one of the greatest minds of the Wizarding world. Court observers hold it unlikely that it will turn the custody of the Boy-who-lived over to him.

(Aus dem Tagesprophet, 23.03.1983, geschrieben von Morgan A. Vatha)(From the Daily Prophet, 23.03.1983, written by Morgan A. Vatha)

**

* * *

**

Decision in the Potter case

Yesterday afternoon, the Wizengamot announced its decision in the much-discussed trial for the custody of Harry Potter. The Boy-who-lived will remain with his relatives. The Wizengamot justified its decision as follows:

"Blood is the strongest connection that exists, whether in the Wizarding world or the Muggle-world. Harry has already lived for more than one year with his relatives; he has developed a relationship with them. It would be irresponsible of us, without sufficient cause, to remove him from his familiar surroundings. We have personally looked into Harry Potter's living conditions. What we found was a well maintained household, a plethora of children's toys and a close knit family. Even if we find it worrying that such a young child is in front of the cameras, other children are also photographed for ads, without their parent's losing custody. We did not get the impression from Harry's relatives that they were only eager to exploit his fame. In fact, the photographer of the advertising company even stated that they were very anxious to keep the photographs as natural as possible."

On the question of what Harry's relatives plan to do now, Midas Fox, their representative in wizard-related matters commented:

"The family really just wants to recover from the storm, but that will probably not be possible. We do not have the impression that this decision will keep Albus Dumbledore from trying to get to Harry. That is why we are engaging security experts to hide Harry and his family in a new location."

Midas Fox sees major problems coming to the family, as soon as Harry is old enough to attend a magical school.

"The family want, of course, honor the wishes of the Potters, and send Harry to Hogwarts. They fear, however, that Albus Dumbledore could use his position as Headmaster, in order to alienate him from them."

Sadly, for Harry, no other school is an option. Durmstrang lays too much value on the dark arts, and Beauxbatons and Salem are not secure enough. Ultimately, it will probably mean that his aunt will hire a private tutor for him."

It looks as though Albus Dumbledore, with his virulent campaign, had ruined any chance young Harry Potter had to lead a normal life. This reporter hopes, that in any case, that his aunt will succeed in keeping the damage to a minimum.

(From the Daily Prophet, 2.04.1983, written by Morgan A. Vatha)

**

* * *

**

Fudge scores overwhelming election victory

Its official: Cornelius Fudge is the new Minister for Magic. With an overwhelming majority vote of 93%, he was elected into office yesterday.

It did not start out looking that rosy for him. Many told him that he was only a stopgap candidate, whose only achievement was the sheer coincidence of having been present when Auror Sirius Black was arrested.

Public opinion changed abruptly, when _Witch Weekly_ published a photo of Cornelius Fudge and Harry Potter three days ago.

"I really don't know how they got a hold of this picture," Fudge explained two days ago at an election rally. "It was never intended for the public. I merely paid a visit on Harry, in order to convince myself of his well-being. After all, we do have a responsibility towards the Savior of the Wizarding world."

Whether it was his intention or not, the visit served to increase Cornelius Fudge's popularity by an incredible margin.

"Finally a politician who takes responsibility!" was the general opinion.

As to whether there will be more visits to Harry Potter, the new Minister for Magic admitted: "I will keep an eye on the boy. However, I will take care to ensure that my visits do not come into the public light. No child, not even Harry Potter, should be used to further political purposes."

With this attitude, Cornelius Fudge conquered the hearts of all the Wizards by storm. His office was inundated with congratulatory messages. At that moment, no one doubted that the new Minister for Magic was worthy of the heavy burden of office.

(From the Daily Prophet, 04.03.1984, written by Morgan A. Vatha)

**

* * *

****Harry Potter: Magical Attraction or Attracting Magic?**

For eight years, Harry Potter has been the undisputed darling of the Wizarding world and a guarantee for success. Whenever he advertises a product, the sales figures shoot sky high every time. Only recently explained Harry's manager, Midas Fox:

"Strictly speaking, it has little to do with Harry. The products he advertises, simply keep the promises they make. But the wizards know, in the meantime, that he cannot be bought for just any advertising campaign, and they trust his judgment."

IS THAT REALLY THE REASON FOR HIS SUCCESS?

We asked Harry Potter experts for their theory.

"In truth, Harry uses hypnosis," said Thekla Kah from Wiltshire. "Look at his eyes. They are that unusual green because they are a source of constant magical radiation themselves. One look into those eyes and you cannot do anything but what Harry Potter wants you to."

Well-known conspiracy theorist Nohid Para considers this impossible however.

"No one can force Harry Potter to do anything, because we have never seen the real Harry Potter. The boy, who has been pictured for years in all the newspapers is a double created by polyjuice. And it could be possible that some of the advertisement posters may carry a previously unknown modification of the Imperius spell."

If this is indeed correct, then a life sentence in Azkaban awaits those responsible. But so far, the Ministry refuses to open an investigation.

WHY?

Is there perhaps a scandal, which has not come to the public's attention? What is the real secret of Harry Potter's success?

(From the Quibbler, 10.07.1990, written by Ernie Belivall)


	5. Birthday and Family Day

**Chapter 5: Birthday and Family Day**

The lives of the Dursleys had changed a lot due to Harry's success. They no longer lived in a small row house, but owned an enormous property with an impressive mansion. Vernon Dursley no longer worked at Grunnings, but spent his days playing golf, and Petunia now had a staff to do the housework and she spent her time undertaking extended shopping sprees. Now and then, they went to a Polo tournament or a society party, to show off their expensive jewelry and their highly polished Rolls Royce.

Dudley was as fat and thick-headed as ever. When he reached school age, his parent sent him to the most expensive private school around. However, after one month he had already been expelled, because he was constantly instigating fights with his schoolmates. Not even a large donation to the school could persuade the headmaster to reverse his decision, so Dudley was finally told he would be taught together with Harry by a private tutor. In the afternoon, he always had friends over (handpicked by Petunia). When they came over, they showed off their newest toys to each other, and then took turns jetting around on Dudley's child sized motorcycle.

If a muggle were to visit, they never saw that there was a guesthouse on the property next to the mansion. It was there because occasionally wizards spend the night, when they came to take publicity shots of Harry. The most frequent overnight guests were Midas Fox and the security advisor to the Dursleys, Clarence Oldridge. Clarence Oldridge was the son of an old Wizarding family and seldom associated with muggles or even half-bloods. But due to his gambling addiction and chronic financial difficulties, he signed on with Midas for the extremely lucrative job of protecting Harry Potter by contributing what Midas did not have: above average magic powers.

Together they laid all kinds of protection and magical wards around the property. Midas was particularly proud of the Fidelius charm, which hid Harry (noticeable Harry himself, not the property he lived on) from Death Eaters as well as from Albus Dumbledore (Midas himself was the secret keeper). Additionally, they had cast several notice-me-not charms on the boy, which were only removed when they were taking advertizing photographs. As a result, none of the servants (with the exception of the private tutor) was aware that besides Dudley, another small boy lived in the mansion.

And Harry? He now lived a rather lonely existence. The Dursleys stayed away, and above all kept Dudley as far away from him as possible. Every private tutor who had crossed the threshold of the mansion had learned quickly that it was his task to make Dudley happy, and to criticize every little thing that Harry did. If he did not, he was sent away after altering his memory and with an extremely negative assessment of his skills, (the others received the same memory alteration along with a positive assessment).

Harry had never been allowed to cross the borders of the property. Once he had tried to flee. He shuddered to remember what had happened that day.

_It was a so called 'family' day. Actually, Harry's rooms were completely separate from those of the Dursleys in the mansion. He even had his own entrance and kitchen. Since he was five years old, he made his own breakfast and dinner. If Aunt Petunia had the time and desire, she cooked him a hot lunch, otherwise he had to be content with cold sandwiches._

_Once a month, nevertheless, he ate in the main house with the family. This meal developed over time into pure torture. He sat at the table with them, but none of the Dursleys paid him any attention. He always had to get himself a plate, because the servants never set a place for him. The food was more delicious than the ones cooked hastily and without love by Aunt Petunia, but in view of his relative's refusal to acknowledge him, nothing really had any taste._

_On his sixth birthday, it was particularly bad. Actually, the day had begun well. The sixth birthday was a milestone for a boy. Harry was looking forward that he would soon go to a real school. It had to be fun to play with other children, as Dudley did._

_Harry even had a birthday gift! Mr. Fox had given him a colorful yo-yo. So despite the fact that it was one of the family days, he still had a reason to be happy. Even if the Dursley would simply ignore his birthday, he could still pretend that they were all eating together to celebrate with him. Happily, he sat at his place at the far end of the long table, letting his legs swing back and forth and played with his yo-yo secretly under the table._

_When Uncle Vernon suddenly talked directly to him, Harry actually believed for one moment, that he wanted to congratulate him on his birthday. What he heard instead, struck down his good mood in one blow._

"_Tomorrow I will be holding job interviews for some private tutors. I hope that I can find one that can finally beat some breading and order into you. In any case, I expect that you will behave. Whoever I choose, I do not intend to inform him about your abnormality."_

_Harry had stopped listening after the first sentence. _

_"Tutor?" He was horrified._

"_Yes tutor! While it is a waste of money, it is expected of us that we allow you the benefit of some sort of an education."_

"_But… I don't get to go to school then?" whispered Harry shaken._

_Uncle Vernon narrowed his eyes._

"_No school would take someone like you as a student," he announced cruelly._

_Sprits low, Harry hung his head. He was trying so hard to fight against the tears that he hadn't noticed that Dudley had left his place at the table. It was only when his cousin was suddenly standing next to him and his yo-yo demanding: "Hey what do you have there? Show me!" and tore the toy from his hand, that he became aware of his presence. _

"_Give it back!" shouted Harry. "It belongs to me!" he lunged at Dudley and tried to snatch back his precious possession, but Uncle Vernon seized him by the nape of the neck and dragged him away from his son._

"_Get your hands off my son, you selfish little hooligan! If Dudley wants to try the yo-yo, then he may. Now you apologize to him right now!"_

_Harry looked over to his cousin who looked back at him with a broad grin as he triumphantly dangled the yo-yo by its long thread back and forth. Harry knew that 'try' for Dudley was synonymous with 'never giving it back'. After he 'tried' unsuccessfully several time to let the thread roll up again, he would probably throw the yo-yo somewhere in a corner never to touch it again – but he certainly would not return it._

_But Harry had no choice. He mumbled an apology, broke loose from his uncle and ran out of the room before the Dursleys could see his tears. This was the most dreadful birthday that he had ever had. None of the previous ones had ever been particularly fun, but then again he had known not to expect anything special. This time, he had the spent the whole morning in joyful expectation until his relatives snatched it all from him with their cruel laughter. _

_He didn't want to stay in the house to be ignored and humiliated any longer. Whatever was waiting for him behind the property walls could only be better than here. Harry ran. He knew that the large electronic gate would not open for him, nevertheless, he ran for it. There had to be a way out, he had to reach the road somehow._

_Harry did not really know what happened then. In one moment, he was running at the gate, and then in the next he was running on the road. Confused, he stopped. How did he do that? He had seen people who did such a thing, Mr. Fox, for example. He also knew that he himself could do strange things. But to suddenly be somewhere else because he wished it – that was not something he would have imagined in his wildest dreams._

_If he made it to the road, then certainly he could make it somewhere else too. Harry firmly closed his eyes tight and tried to imagine the most perfect place. A place where someone tucked him into bed at night, somewhere he had many friends with which to celebrate his birthday, a place where he was really wanted._

_When he opened his eyes again, Mr. Oldridge was standing in front of him. He had not moved a centimeter from the road. Mr. Oldridge grabbed him by the arm and started hurling insults as he dragged him back into the house. There his tirade was replaced by one from his uncle._

"_What did you think you were doing you simpleton,' he shouted at his nephew. Harry lost his painstakingly maintained control._

"_I was leaving. I thought you didn't want me here anyway," he shouted back._

"_So, you think that somewhere there are people who do want you? You are sadly mistaken. I guess it is time that I give you a lesson which you will do well to take to heart."_

_Uncle Vernon turned to Mr. Oldridge and began a quiet discussion with him. Frightened Harry stared at the floor. His relatives normally avoided coming into contact with Mr. Oldridge. If they wanted something from him, it was always requested through Mr. Fox. If Uncle Vernon was speaking to him now, it couldn't mean anything good._

_It meant nothing good. Half an hour later Harry found himself kneeling on a stool beside the front door, holding a long bar horizontally above his head in his upraised hands. Mr. Oldridge had done something to him so that he could not move. The whole evening long he knelt there and watched while Aunt Petunia's friends arrived for a sociable evening. The maids took their coats and hung them on the bar between Harry's hands. Because it was a sunny day, there were not a great many jackets to weigh down the bar. And because of whatever Mr. Oldridge did to him, he felt neither pain in his arms or knees. But he felt a different kind of pain when he saw all the women talking without a care to one another, not disturbed in the least that beside them a little boy was being used and abused as a coat rack. A little boy, who had silent tears running down his face the entire time._

_In the end, it was Mr. Fox who finally got him down off the stool. He carried him into his room and gently wiped the tears from his face. Then he pressed something into his hand – the yo-yo that Dudley had stolen from him. When Mr. Fox started to leave the room, Harry whispered "Thanks, Mr. Fox!"_

_"You can call me Midas," he said before he left the room._

_Harry tired several more time to wish himself into a better place, but he never succeeded. In the end, he resigned himself to the fact that the property was his whole world, and that besides Midas, no one else would care about him._

Five years later, not much had changed in Harry's living conditions. While the Dursleys enjoyed life to the fullest, he was cut off from everything. A month before his eleventh birthday, he watched from a window as guests arrived at the house for an enormous party that the Dursley's had organized in Dudley's honor. Beside an enormous cream cake a veritable mountain of gifts developed.

As Vernon presented Dudley with a gold credit card, he announced loudly "This is so he will lack for nothing while he attends Smelting!" Yes soon Dudley would leave his parent's house and attend boarding school. But not Harry! Harry knew the best he could hope for was a new tutor.

In a shrill voice, Petunia spoke up to the mother of one of Dudley's guests.

"Certainly I would like Dudley to attend one of the better known elite schools," she announced loud enough to be sure everyone within the surrounding area could hear. "...with his talent! But what can we do? It is a family tradition."

Harry snorted. Yeah sure! As if one of those elite schools would actually take Dudley with his virtually non-existent manners and his miserable grades.

"Are you looking at the zoo down there?" asked a voice suddenly from behind him. Harry did not have to turn around to know that it was Midas. He had not known that he would be here today, but he would always recognize the voice.

"Why 'Zoo'?" he asked curiously.

"Look over there." Midas pointed at a group of women, who were chatting eagerly with one another, "a whole gaggle of cackling geese. And there." his finger wandered over to point at a stocky woman who had just cleaned her son's face and then patted him on the head. "…a truly magnificent Duckling. And the peacock isn't to be overlooked either." This time he pointed to an overly made up woman who carried a costly hat adorned with feathers. "But let's forget the poultry and look at the primates, they are not all sweet little monkeys." Now he pointed to some boys who had climbed into a big oak tree. "…chimpanzees", these boys jumped down and began fighting over Dudley's new racing bike." And of course the magnificent gorillas", a group of massively built fathers stood together, apparently comparing each other's last business deal. Then of course, there is the livestock, like pigs…" pointing to two boys, whose combined boy mass rivaled that of Dudley, helping themselves to the refreshment buffet. "..and cows…" a woman chewing slowly on her food. "And finally, the exotics!" His finger pointed to Vernon just as he triumphantly announced something. "An elephant, a giraffe," indicating Aunt Petunia who's long neck stretched a bit more to see what was happening on the other side of the terrace, "and the whale!" he finished as Dudley rolled his massive body out of the pool.

By the time he finished Harry was laughing uncontrollably. Holding his belly, he slipped slowly down the wall to the ground. Midas was grinning down at him.

"Are you in the mood now for some news?" asked Midas.

"Good or bad?" asked Harry.

"Both," replied Midas. "Which would you like to hear first?"

"Does it make any difference? How about start with the good?" Harry suggested. He knew he could not avoid the bad news, but he wanted to keep his good mood a little longer.

"Your old tutor is fired…" Harry looked hopeful. Maybe he would be allowed to go to school!

"…and you will soon get a new one. Or rather, three new ones!" Harry's hope dissolved into nothingness.

"The reason is that you will now be taught in some other subjects. It is time to train your special abilities, so that in time, you will become a good wizard."

Harry looked at him with big eyes. It was the first time that someone had actually said why he was different. He was a magician! He had known it for quite a while. You cannot constantly watch visitors with wands who can make things happen, without at some point, figuring out what they are, and that you are one too.

"One of your teachers will be Mr. Oldridge." That thought was frightening. Harry knew that Mr. Oldridge hated him. Only he didn't know why. Maybe, because he was a freak. Lessons with him would certainly be hell.

"He is going to teach you only in Transformation." That was at least a ray of hope.

"We must still hire one teacher. But I will also teach." With a cry of joy, Harry threw himself into his arms.

"What will you teach me? And when do we start?" Harry asked.

"History of Magic, Astronomy, and Charms! And we will not begin before your birthday. First, we have to procure some things."

"We? Does that mean I may come along?" Harry hardly dared to hope.

"At least for one of the purchase you will have to be present. After all, you need a magic wand, don't you?" Harry's face lit up. This promised to become one of the best days of his life.


	6. The Wand

**Chapter 6: The Magic Wand**

"You can't be serious," said Vernon Dursley the next day. Up to now, he had never refused to go along with any of Midas Fox's plan. But, what he suggested this time was simply madness. "That is absolutely out of the question," he said emphatically. "Under no circumstances will Harry leave this property. Especially not to go to… _their _world."

"I understand your concerns," Mr. Fox said trying to appease him, "but we have no other choice. Harry needs a magic wand. And the best wands come from Ollivander's. The Wizarding world would think it strange if he bought his magic wand somewhere else."

"Then the chap should just come here," Vernon decided. "Everything else is far too risky."

"On the contrary," contradicted Mr. Fox. "It is far too risky to bring a wizard here, like Mr. Ollivander, who is so close to Dumbledore. Once I tell him where Harry is, it can't be undone. The _Fidelius_ charm would prevent him from passing on the location or telling him about Harry, but he would still be able to find his way back here at anytime. The magic I must use to make sure that he will recognize Harry when he sees him is already dangerous enough."

"Then just do that memory thingy on him," mumbled Vernon. He did not like it to be wrong at all.

"It would not be long before someone noticed that someone cast an _Obliviate _charm on him. Then he would immediately notice that a magic wand was missing. And believe me. He would notice it on the spot. Ollivander does not give his magic wands away for free, and he is the best magic wand maker in the Wizarding world, he remembers every single magic wand that he ever sold, and of course every magic wand that he has ever created."

Slowly Vernon got the impression that Mr. Fox was intentionally saying the M-word as often as possible, just to annoy him.

"In addition," continued Mr. Fox, "he must know that he sold Harry the magic wand. He must confirm that we are doing everything within our power for Harry."

"I don't see why he even needs such a thing. I would prefer he learns something decent," threw in Petunia.

Vernon suppressed a sigh. Even if it did not please him, he recognized that they had no other choice. But Petunia simply did not want to understand.

"If we are not providing Harry an education, we could have big problems," explained Mr. Fox, and not for the first time. "Because we have indicated that he was being taught privately, he must pass a test at this same time next year, before the employees of the Magical Examination Authority. If he is not performing well, then the old custody dispute will certainly come up again."

"Then let Minister Fudge throw around his influence. After all, he owes us. Without our support, who knows whether or not he would have even won his election."

"Unfortunately, Minister Fudge doesn't have much influence over the Examination Authority. Their members act independently of the Ministry to a large extent, and are considered incorruptible. He would have a better chance to take over Hogwarts."

"Perhaps he should do exactly that," rumbled Vernon. "Then we would not have to let these peculiarities take place under our roof." But he knew that this was not an option. If they wanted to keep Harry clueless, then they had probably better follow Mr. Fox's instructions.

Then Petunia spoke up again.

"In the meantime, have you found a trustworthy teacher?"

"I have someone in mind. He taught one of the subjects at Hogwarts for Dumbledore until recently."

That did not please Vernon at all.

"And you are confident that he will not return at his first opportunity?"

"They had a rather violent dispute. Dumbledore has kept him from his dream job for many years now, and he did not want to wait any longer. Moreover, I know from reliable sources that there was a certain animosity between him and the Potter family."

That however, was a recommendation in the eyes of the Dursleys.

"By the way," continued Mr. Fox. "I will be gone for the next couple of days, in order to buy the rest of the equipment he will need. You know cauldron, magic books, and the ingredients for magic potions. I think we will also need some of the rooms in the guesthouse remodeled. At the very least we will need a classroom, a laboratory, and a greenhouse."

But Vernon waved him off, whatever he wanted, as long as he finally stopped throwing around these freakish terms. Stanchly he said: "Do whatever you must. Can I trust in the fact that you will be careful to watch out for Harry?" Vernon asked.

"I won't let him out of my sight for one second," assured Mr. Fox.

An unspoken understanding prevailed between the two men. Both knew that this was not the concern of an uncle for his nephew. Harry might accidentally find out on this trip what he really means to the Wizarding world.

**

* * *

It was very early in the morning when Harry stood before the mansion and waited for Midas. He had obediently put on one of the robes, which he was normally only allowed to wear on special days. He was excited. Not only that he was allowed to leave the property, but that he would go to a magical place. And Midas would be with him! Harry could not imagine anyone with whom he would prefer to spend the day.**

At eight o'clock on the dot, Midas stepped out of the door of the guesthouse. Harry knew that he had not slept there the night before, but for some reason all Wizards always came out of the guesthouse without him ever seeing them come through the gate.

"Well, Harry, ready for the big adventure?"

Harry beamed at him.

"Oh yes!"

"Then why don't we leave immediately."

Harry wanted to go in the direction of the gate, but Midas held him by the shoulder.

"Not so fast! We'll take a faster way. Here!" He pulled a small box from his pocket and opened it. Inside was a large, old-fashioned key.

"What's that for?" Harry asked.

"That," answered Midas, "is a portkey. The Minister for Magic was so kind to put one at our disposal. By special permission!"

Harry looked at him with big eyes.

"There is a Minister for Magic? And you know him personally? "

Harry had no idea what a portkey was, so it did not impress him, it was Midas who did. He must be a really important person, with all the powerful contacts that he had.

"He still owes me one or two favors," Midas said derogatorily. "Now listen, we must both touch the key, and they I say the code word. Don't you let go under any circumstances, okay?"

Harry nodded. Midas took his left hand in his right, and held them over the key.

"Attention! One, two three… Toad paster!"

All of a sudden, Harry had a feeling as if there were a hook directly behind his navel pulling him forward with irresistible force. The ground was swept out from under his feet by furious gusts and whirling color spirals; his forefinger was stuck to the key as if he were drawn to it magnetically, and then- -

Harry's feet hit solid ground. As he struggled to keep his balance, Midas grabbed a hold of his shoulder to keep him from falling down. At the same time, Midas turned and pushed him though the doorway of a small shabby looking shop. Harry had just barely started reading the peeling gilt letters on the sign: Ollivander – Good Magic Wands since - - when they were already stepping through the door.

The store that they entered was small and empty with the exception of one three-legged stool. Harry's eyes wandered immediately to the thousand of long boxes, which were stacked to the ceiling. For some reason it tickled his nose, all the dust and silence seemed to hold a secret charm. Somewhere in the back of the shop sounded the bright ringing of a bell.

The sound stopped an old man, who Harry thought might be the owner, from leaving the room through a door at the very end. He turned around, his pale eyes shone like moons in the dim light of the shop.

"Hello," said Harry embarrassed. But Mr. Ollivander ignored him as if he wasn't there and spoke instead to Midas.

"Midas Fox! I have read during the past years a lot about you. You have scaled the heights of fame. Is there something wrong with your magic wand? Olive tree, 12-inch, extremely flexible, is it not?"

"Yes, that's right, but that's not why I am here. Harry here," he pushed Harry by the shoulders forward, "needs a magic wand."

Mr. Ollivander blinked twice, and then looked Harry directly in the eyes, seeing him for the first time.

"Ah yes," said the man. "Yes, yes. I had hoped that I would see you soon. But I had not though that it would be so early. Harry Potter." Harry seriously wondered how the man knew who he was. "You have your mother's eyes. It seems like only yesterday that she purchased her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, supple, made of willow wood, pretty little wand for charm work.

Mr. Ollivander came closer. Harry wished that he would blink. His staring silver eyes were a little creepy. He could feel Midas behind him nervously moving from one foot to the other.

"However, your father wanted a wand that was made of mahogany. Eleven inches. Flexible. A little more powerful. Suitable for transformations. Well, I say your father wanted it – in fact, it is the wand that chooses the wizard."

Mr. Ollivander had come so close to Harry that he was almost nose to nose. Harry could see his reflection his mirror like eyes. The words of the shop owner had surprised him. Up to now, he had not known that his parents had been wizards.

"And here…"

Mr. Ollivander touched the lightning bolt shaped scar on Harry's forehead with a long white finger.

"Mr. Ollivander", interrupted Midas at this moment. "We don't have much time."

The old man sent him a piercing look, but immediately became very businesslike. Harry was half relieved that the eerie atmosphere was broken, half-disappointed. He would endure it longer if he could have found out a little more about his parents.

"As you wish," he said with a slightly hostile undertone. "So, Mr. Potter," he drew a long tape with silver lines from his pocket. "Which is your Wizard hand?"

"He is right handed," replied Midas, before Harry could even open his mouth.

"Hold your arm out. Exactly so!" The old man measured Harry from his shoulder to his fingertips, then from his wrist to his elbow, from his shoulder to his feet, from his knees to the cross of his arm, and finally from ear to ear. While he worked with the tape measure, he said: "Every magic wand of Ollivander's has a core of a powerful magic substance, Mr. Potter. We use unicorn hair, tail feathers of the phoenix, and heart strings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no unicorn, dragon, or phoenix is identical. And of course, you will never achieve the same outstanding results with another wizard's wand.

After the measuring, Mr. Ollivander started handing Harry different wands to try out. He obediently swung them to and fro without knowing what should actually be happening. After each attempt, the old man tore the wand from his hand to immediately supply him with a new one.

Harry tried. And tried. And tried. Harry soon had the feeling that he had tried every single wand the shop had. And the whole while, as Midas grew more and more nervous often looking towards the door, Mr. Ollivander seemed to become happier and happier.

"Difficult customer, what? Do not worry, somewhere here is exactly the right one. I wonder now – yes, why not – unusual connection – holly and phoenix's feather, eleven inches, handy and supple."

Harry took the magic wand. Suddenly, he felt the warmth in his fingers. He raised the wand over his head and let it down in a rush through the dusty air. A stream of red and golden sparks shot out form the tip like fireworks, which threw spots of dancing lights on the walls.

Mr. Ollivander shouted:"Ah, bravo! "

He wanted to say even more, but Midas interrupted him.

"How much?"

Once more, the old man looked at him disapprovingly.

"Seven Galleons!"

Harry drew in a sharp breath when Midas pulled the seven gold pieces from his money bag. Seeing wealth was not unusual for him, as the Dursley's were constantly showing off, but never before had someone spent so much money on _him_.

However, Midas paid without batting an eyelash. In the same moment, the door opened, and a woman in flowery dress entered the store. Midas used the opportunity to push Harry hastily outside. With his face half buried in the larger man's robes, he could hardly see where they went. Midas grabbed his right hand, said the code word, and in the next moment he was pulled again into the color vortex. His trip to the outside world had ended.

_

* * *

_

(AN _1: The description of a port key travel is based on Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire) _

_(AN 2: The scene with Ollivander is based largely on Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone)_


	7. The new Teacher

**Chapter 7: The new teacher**

Harry had been quite disappointed by his trip. He had hoped to be allowed to explore some of the other stores. However, as Midas regretfully explained to him, they had simply spent too much time with Ollivander. And he immediately took the wand from him as soon as they landed in front of the house by portkey. He would be allowed to use it only during his lessons.

Over the next three weeks, Harry slipped into a state of depression. The next family dinner was particularly unpleasant, since Uncle Vernon gave him a long lecture on how he was to behave during his lessons and hold back his 'abnormalities'. Harry kept a stony face and a stoic demeanor. He had learned early on that it was never a good idea to show any emotions in front of the Dursleys.

It wasn't until his birthday that you could hear him laughing again. Midas had come to see him that afternoon, and had blindfolded him and then led him to the guesthouse. When he took the blindfold off, Harry saw a real classroom. On the wall hung a chalkboard, in the corner stood a globe, and the shelves housed dozens of books on magic. The only thing that distinguished the room from a real classroom was the number of desks: A total of three desks for the teachers, arranged next to each other before the board, opposite only a single desk stood – for Harry.

Then Midas led him into the new lab in the basement, and then finally into the small greenhouse. Not that there was much to see. Midas said they would plant the plants together with the new teacher who would come in one week.

Harry awaited his arrival with tension. At least, this man would teach him in three subjects (Herbology, Potions, and the one which Harry was especially curious about, Defense against the Dark Arts). That meant that he would spend a lot of time with him. In the meantime, he was content to read by himself in the magic books. With every word he read, a new world revealed itself to him, and gave his wish to be free of the Dursleys new hope.

Severus Snape hated apparating into an unknown place. But he had no other choice. Midas Fox's instructions had been clear when he was hired and had revealed Harry Potter's place of residence.

He landed in a sunny room. The large windows gave a clear view of an enormous mansion. The room itself was only sparsely furnished, so even though it was fairly small it looked quite roomy.

"Good morning, Mr. Snape," a voice behind him said. "I can see you had no problem finding us."

Severus was not surprised to see Midas Fox standing in the doorway. One did not survive long in the service of Voldemort, if you did not grow eyes in the back of your head.

"Good morning!" he answered. "Obviously, your instructions were extremely accurate."

He hated the pointless exchange of pleasantries. He hated the haughty style with which Midas Fox had hired him. So he fixed on him his most notorious teacher glare that never failed to make every Hogwarts student uneasy, even long after they had graduated. Unfortunately, Midas Fox had never been his pupil. Consequently, he was only mildly impressed.

"I have some things I would like to discuss with you before I introduce you to Harry. Shall we?" He directed Severus to a small comfortable living room area. "May I offer you something to drink? Coffee? Tea? Butterbeer? Firewhisky?"

"At this hour, coffee would probably be the most appropriate. Black, no sugar, please."

Severus had to admit that at least the coffee was good. Hot, strong and very bitter, exactly how he liked it.

"I am certain I don't have to tell you," Midas Fox began his little speech, "that everything you see here, if at possible, must be kept confidential. We especially appreciate not having Harry's private life dragged into public." _But they have nothing against having his face plastered on every damn wall. _"Harry may be a celebrity, but in the end, he is only a small boy. And we want him to remain that way. That is why we treat him as if he were any other boy. Nobody here mentions his celebrity status, and I expect you will also not fail to do likewise." _As if he had the smallest desire to pamper Potter even more. If the boy was anything like his father, he already had an oversized ego. No reason, to give any more support to his arrogance. _"We are in the Muggle world, and Harry's family occasionally has guests. Therefore, all lessons will take place in the guesthouse. We do not want the Muggles to notice us." _The Muggles or Harry's family? Surely, adequate rooms could also be found in the mansion. _"You have certainly noticed that the guesthouse has been put under a Muggle defense and an invisibility charm. Within this area, you may move around. I am relying on you to keep to these instructions. I would prefer not to endanger Harry's life, but I am compelled because of a request by the Ministry."

Indeed, Severus did not believe that something like that would make a difference as long as Potter himself was under the Fidelius charm, but he agreed anyway. Not that he really had a choice. As long as he lived and worked here, he had to abide by their rules.

"Well then, now we come to the lessons themselves. Have you already thought about a curriculum for Harry?"

Naturally, Severus had done so. He would not start his new position unprepared.

"I have prepared an adequate program."

Midas Fox turned out to be extremely inquisitive. He made Severus describe every detail of this curriculum. Then he went over again – which in Severus Snape's eyes was ridiculously excessive – the safety measures of the mansion. It was already midday, when he finally said: "I'll give you a quick tour of the rooms, and then introduce you to Harry."

Even if Severus would never admit it, he was looking forward to meeting the boy-who-lived.

* * *

Harry had spent the morning in the classroom. Midas had told him that he was to wait there for him and the new teacher. In the beginning, he kept looking expectantly to the door, but soon became engrossed in one of the many books instead.

As time passed by Harry slowly became nervous. It was almost noon. Aunt Petunia would expect him at exactly twelve o'clock for lunch. If he were not in the kitchen, he would get nothing warm. This would mean five days in a row of nothing but sandwiches. In addition, his aunt would give him a lecture at the next-best opportunity.

Midas had told him that he should wait. But so far, he had not seen him. Besides, Harry was starting to get really hungry. Soon Harry decided to leave the classroom and ran to the mansion.

He arrived just in time, before his aunt had left the kitchen.

"I should just go," she said. "You haven't even peeled the potatoes, and now you have come too late." Never-the-less, to Harry's great relief, she put some ingredients on the counter.

Harry didn't know what she was going to cook, however he didn't protest. He followed her instructions and peeled the potatoes, cleaned the vegetables and prepared the salad. Meanwhile Aunt Petunia grumbled quietly to herself.

"It's about time you cook for yourself. You're big enough, and it really isn't acceptable that I am still wasting my valuable time taking care of your needs."

Harry tried hard to hide his joy. If it had been up to him, he would have started cooking for himself long ago. After all, he had helped his aunt cook for years. In fact, the only thing she actually did was throw the ingredients into the pot or pan in the correct order. He could also do that for himself.

The only reason he hadn't started yet, was that his refrigerator simply did not hold the ingredients needed for a good meal. In it, there was only cheese, sausage, jam, and a little milk. Not even butter. And the only vegetables that were available to him were potatoes and tomatoes. The tomatoes were so that he ate something healthy (but he didn't really care for them), and the potatoes were so that he could peel them, and have them ready for when his aunt came to cook for him.

Harry had thought about asking if he could start cooking for himself. But if he had done that, his relatives would have certainly never permitted it. So he had held back and just hoped that he aunt would eventually decide cooking was too much. In view of her usual laziness with regard to manual labor (she was quick at pointing out even the smallest grain of dust to the maids, however she never lifted a finger herself), he had actually thought it wouldn't have taken as long as this. He had almost given up hope, but now, it appeared as if his wish was going to be fulfilled. Never again would he have to depend on the whims of Aunt Petunia's moods, every day a warm meal, and not just at noon, but whenever he was hungry. This day couldn't get any better.

It was half past twelve when he returned to the guesthouse. Aunt Petunia always chose meals that could be prepared as quick as possible, and then he had bolted his meal down as fast as he could, even though it was liver. He hated liver, but Aunt Petunia always cooked him things that were as healthy as possible. Things like fatty roast or sweets he only got on family days.

Harry tore open the door to the classroom but paused on the threshold when he saw the two men. One was Midas. The other was a tall man with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and pale skin. In his black robes, he looked extremely scary, and the piercing look that he threw Harry only intimidated him more. Harry withdrew a step uncertainly. He only hoped that this was not his new teacher.


	8. The meeting

**Chapter 8: The meeting**

The appearance of his new teacher was so menacing that Harry seriously considered if it wouldn't be best to just run away as quickly as possible. But his legs wouldn't obey. It was as if he was rooted in the doorway.

The last thing that Harry wanted was to be alone with this man, but before he could protest the door had already closed behind Midas. Nervously Harry squinted up at his new tall teacher.

"I do not know," were Mr. Snape's first words, "what it is like in your Muggle relatives' world, but it is usually customary to greet others when you enter a room."

Harry swallowed. This couldn't be good. Mr. Snape was obviously as strict as he looked. And what was a Muggle?

"Good day, Mr. Snape!" he greeting in a quiet voice.

"Professor Snape! And kindly speak up when you talk to me."„Professor Snape!

"I am sorry, Professor Snape!"

The teacher looked him over from top to bottom.

"In the future, I expect that you will appear appropriately dressed for learning. There is a stain on your shirt and your hair…" Snape broke off his tirade when Harry automatically ran his hand through his messy hair. His gaze narrowed even more.

"Mr. Potter," Harry would have gladly told him he would rather be called by his first name, but he didn't dare to say a word. "Obviously, you have no sense of decency and rules. I will only tell you this once, so listen to me. If I instruct you to wait somewhere, you will stay there until I return. Otherwise, the consequences will not be pleasant." That was so unfair! Harry had not wanted to leave the classroom, but Aunt Petunia wouldn't have waited for him. And the stain on his shirt was only there because he hurried through his meal so fast. And as for his hair, he could do nothing; it wouldn't lie flat even after hours of combing. But he did not dare to contradict Professor Snape.

"I can see that you are already familiar with your books. How many chapters have you read in _Potions and Magic_?

"None yet!" murmured Harry. He had planned to read the books in alphabetical order. So he had not started reading about Potions yet, however, he had read every word of _Dark Forces: A course for self-defense._

"Not only disobedient by lazy as well. I shouldn't be surprised that the great Harry Potter feels that something as mundane as learning is beneath him. I expect that by tomorrow you will have read the first two chapters from each of your books. Lessons will begin at exactly eight o'clock."

Snape swept out of the room with his robes billowing. Harry stared after him with burning eyes. It looked quite as if the new teacher would be even worse than his predecessor.

* * *

Later that day Severus Snape was eating his dinner and cursing his fate. This new job was going to be as bad as he believed it would be. The first day had already begun unpleasantly and had ended even worse.

He already missed the Hogwarts' house elves excellent cooking. He was quite capable of preparing something himself, but since he preferred to devote his time and attention to other things, he had never reached the same mastering in cooking that he had in brewing potions.

He also missed his lab. Indeed, there was one here at his disposal, but it was only appropriate for classroom instruction, not for properly preparing the complex potions that needed certain particular conditions, particularly cold humid air, that can only be found in a dungeon.

After meeting Potter, one thing was certain: this devils' spawn was not worth the opportunity to be able to finally teach Defense against the Dark Arts. Already Severus had no doubt in his mind that Potter was exactly the same as his conceited father. He had recognized that at first sight.

In the last eight years, Potter's picture in the morning newspaper had regularly ruined his appetite for breakfast. He didn't want to think about the fact that now it was not just the image he would have to endure each morning, but the real Potter. And in none of the pictures had the boy worn his glasses, even though he obviously needed them. How someone so young could already be so vain, was beyond Severus's comprehension.

And then his behavior! What student would have his new teacher wait!?! Only one who was trying deliberately to provoke. Well, Severus hoped that his small lecture had driven that out of the boy.

Potter had no idea how close he had been to losing control. As he stood before him, his glasses making him look even more like his father than his pictures did, and then running his hand through his hair – he had suddenly seen his old school rival standing before him, and had trouble suppressing the desire to pay the boy back for every insult, every silly prank the marauders had ever pulled to humiliate him.

Not that he should have been surprised at the boy's arrogance. Whatever this Mr. Fox claimed, Severus was sure that Potter was constantly basking in his fame. Merlin! The boy was in every newspaper and on every third billboard. There were Harry Potter toys, Harry Potter toothbrushes, Harry Potter T-shirts, Harry Potter soap – he had even been forced to forbid his students from carrying Harry Potter book bags so that he did not have to see his face staring at him from all sides during classes.

He had also seen the play room in which most of the advertizing photos had been taken, a huge room that was filled with enough toys for ten young wizards. It was full of all the things that the boy had ever advertized, each piece expensive. Severus was sure, that the contents of this room alone cost more than his annual salary in Galleons.

Severus stepped to the window and looked over at the splendid mansion. So far he had seen two servants, a gardener and a maid, but he was pretty sure there were even more. Even if the servants didn't know of Potter's fame, they were surely catering to him hand and foot. And certainly his relatives spent their time showering him with flattery so that their small gold mind did not dry up. All in all, he was surprised that the boy's head was not already too big to fit through the door.

With a contented smile, Severus remembered how Potter had been downcast after his little speech. Not that he was satisfied with his sudden compliance. Potter was an outstanding actor, that much was certain. After all, he gave the impression in every photo that he was completely inspired by the product he was promoting, so much so that it didn't even look as though he was even aware that he was being photographed. After the boy advertised for DHAN porridge (develop, health and nutrient porridge), his acting ability would have to be clear to everyone. The stuff did to what it promised, (it supplied the necessary nutrients to children and thereby protected against illnesses and helped in their development), however, in the matter of taste it was more or less the most revolting thing that you could imagine. Nevertheless, in the ad a six-year-old Harry Potter had eaten the unappetizing, slimy-green mash with undisguised enthusiasm. But if you looked at the boy today, with his skinny frame and pale face, he was sure that he never regularly ate the porridge himself.

No, Severus Snape would not let the boy fool him. For him there was no doubt, Harry Potter was an arrogant, thoughtless git, and it would be the hell to teach him.

_A/N: Yes, I know, it is short and I could have easily merged it with the chapter before, but this is the way I posted it in the original version (where the DHAN porridge is called Gaunbrei…the first letters of the words worked much better in German) so I decided to leave it. _


	9. The Special Day

**Chapter 9: The Special Day**

Gradually, Harry fell into his new routine. Every morning from Monday to Saturday he arrived at the classroom punctually at eight and sat waiting for Professor Snape to appear. He never knew ahead of time which subject the Professor would be teaching that day, so he took care to be as best prepared as he could be for Defense, Potions and Herbology. All three subjects soon became quite frustrating. He had been looking forward to being allowed to use his wand as much as possible during lessons, but already in the first hour of Potions class Professor Snape announced**:** "There will be no foolish wand-waving in this laboratory. You are here in order to learn the fine art of brewing. I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even stopper death. It is a difficult and precise science, which requires your fullest concentration and dedication – neither of which you seem to possess. I don't expect you to learn to recognize the beauty of a quietly bubbling cauldron with its shimmering vapors or to recognize the subtle power of potions that creep through human veins that can bewitch the mind and beguile the senses, but I do expect you to at least not regularly blow up your cauldron.

In fact, Potions was quickly turning out to be Harry's worst subject. He could brew a halfway acceptable potion, but only if his Professor was using this same time to look over his essays. Usually however, Snape was hovering menacingly behind him the entire time, watching over his shoulder. Then his results were almost always a stinking, slimy mass of many different colors.

In Defense Harry had immediately been enlightened that he should get to know his enemies first, before he waved his wand aimlessly and perhaps put someone's eye out. So he was taught first of vampires, trolls, and zombies, and every day had to write long essays.

The most pleasant class by far was Herbology. On the one hand, it was somewhat satisfying to take the proper care of plants, on the other hand Snape worked side by side with him, so he did not feel as much like he was under observation.

Nevertheless, in comparison to the hours he spent in Mr. Oldridge classes, those with Professor Snape were pure heaven. Every Monday and Thursday afternoon Harry was taught in Transformation, and after every class he felt like bawling. During the first class, he was told to transform a match into a needle. However he couldn't manage to make it change. So Mr. Oldridge took the match and pressed it against Harry's index finger and turned it into a needle. The tip of the needle penetrated so deeply into the meat of the finger that it bled, but Mr. Oldridge didn't care, he only said that it should be a lesson to him, and that he should make more of an effort in the class. By the time Harry finally got the charm to work all of his fingers had been stabbed by the needle at least once.

The time he like best, was the time he spent with Midas. Midas let him wave his wand regularly in Charms, and Harry made such rapid progress that by the third week he had already learned the levitation charm. History of magic was also quite interesting. Midas had a talent for making it fascinating. Even the goblin riots have become thrilling events, even though Harry had difficulties remembering the names of the various leaders.

When the night was clear enough, Midas would take Harry to the large lawn in front of the guesthouse, set up a telescope and told him about the stars. The next morning Harry was always sleepy in Snape's classes, but it was worth it to him. On one hand, because he had never been allowed outside that late before (the Dursleys always locked him in his room at exactly 9 o'clock), on the other hand, because Dudley wanted the telescope the very moment he saw it, and had tried to take possession of it, but this time had not gotten his wish. The Dursleys then bought him one of his own, but it was just a muggle telescope (Harry had finally learned in the meantime what that term meant), it was a high tech model, but not with all the mysterious gears, wheels, and sparkling lenses, that Harry's was equipped with.

Dudley had thrown a huge fit. He had screamed, stomped his foot, refused to eat (at least in the presence of his parents), thrown his new racing bike into the pool, but still he wasn't allowed to touch Harry's telescope. Even it if had just been a matter of the Dursleys wanting to keep their Diddykins away from the 'freak's stuff', and not because of the rights of their nephew, it was still the first time that Harry had something that Dudley wanted that he was denied, rather than vice versa.

Of course, the Dursleys were not happy about it. Dudley spent his anger by hunting Harry on his child's motorcycle all over the property. Luckily, Harry was able to escape by climbing up an apple tree where he would wait until Dudley would finally give up and returned to the mansion to watch his big screen television. As it was August, he could even use the time while he was waiting to see if any of the apples were ripe enough yet to pick for his storage.

Uncle Vernon had shouted at Harry for over an hour, and then banned him from bringing any of his "freaky stuff" into the mansion. So now Harry did his homework in the guesthouse, under Midas' watchful eye, who allowed him to practice a little from time to time with his wand.

Aunt Petunia also lectured him, and with a shrill voice informed him that she had finally decided that he was now old enough to cook for himself. All in all, Harry emerged the winner in the whole thing.

Nearly two months later, Uncle Vernon announced that the next Monday was a special day. That did not necessarily mean something bad. Most of the special days were even really great. Harry was allowed to play in the large play room with the magical toys. He especially liked the toy brooms and the flying ball. But he also remembered some occasions when his special day was not so much fun.

_Six-year-old Harry, dressed in his robes, ran excitedly into the big play room. But there was not an exciting new toy for him. Instead there was a child's chair and a small table on which stood a bowl filled with a revolting greenish glob. Harry looked around uncertainly for Midas who had followed him into the room. _

"_Pay attention," Midas said, "your uncle wants you to sit down over there, eat until the bowl is empty and put on a very happy face, okay?"_

_Then he pushed a colorful spoon into his hand. Harry sat down obediently and stirred the slimy glob around. The stuff was not only unappetizing it also had a very strange smell. But he knew that his uncle would not allow disobedience, so he tried it. It tasted just as disgusting as it looked. _

_Midas called from the door: "Don't make such a face Harry! Simply imagine it is chocolate ice cream."_

_Harry really tried, but this task was more than his imagination could handle. Even with his eye closed and only breathing though his mouth, when the least bit of the slimy substance touched his tongue, he pulled a disgusted face again._

_Finally Midas sighed and said quietly: "That's all right Harry. I will try to explain to your uncle."_

_Harry was not present at this conversation, but he had to suffer the consequences. Obviously, Midas had not succeeded in calming his uncle. For three long days, Harry was locked in his room without food. He drank water from the tap of the connecting bathroom, but there was nothing he could do about his hunger._

_When they brought him back again to the play room, this time he did not hesitate to rush to the bowl. The stuff might be slimy and revolting, but at least it was something to eat._

_Afterwards he erupted in tears. Midas comforted him and gave him some sort of potion to drink. Later he had even brought him a pizza, the first pizza that Harry had been allowed to eat. It tasted heavenly!_

Understandably, after that Harry awaited every special day with mixed feelings. And now, when the Dursleys were so angry at him, he was even more uneasy than usual.

The fact that Midas gave him new padded robes for the day, stoked his fear. Why should he need padding unless he was going to be asked to do something dangerous?

However, worrying didn't change anything. In accordance with Midas' instructions he was waiting punctually at ten o'clock in the morning on the lawn, in the hopes that they wouldn't ask him to do anything bad.

* * *

Severus was in the lab. He had decided to spend his unexpected day off brewing. Two days ago Potter had almost produced a potion with highly toxic fumes. Severus was able to intervene in time, however for safety's sake he thought he should make a selection of antidotes to keep on hand. He didn't want to see the headline of the Daily Prophet read: "Ex-Death Eater poisons Harry Potter!"

If anything had happened to Potter while under his supervision Midas Fox surely would take care that he suffered the consequences. The safety precautions at the mansion were worthy of Alastor Moody. Both the mansion and the guesthouse were littered with formidable protective magic and shields. The room in which he had arrived was the only place that you could actually apparate into.

Severus had secretly tested the shields and noticed that there were two of them. One surrounded the mansion and the guesthouse, and a second higher one extended in a bell like shape over the entire property and a little way beyond. The second shield however was more recent, installed just four or five years ago. Severus would like to know what happened at that time, that a reinforcement of that type had been considered necessary.

It was late afternoon when Severus decided to take a break. He wanted to get himself something quick to eat before he spent a few more hours brewing. When he left his lab he could hear a loud shout of jubilation. Looking out the window he saw Potter, zooming by on what he judged to be a brand new ergonomically designed Nimbus 2000.

So this was the important appointment! The reason that Potter has been excused from his lessons. To race around on one of the most expensive racing broom there was. Severus watch with his mouth closed tight and his eyes narrowed as Potter whizzed downward at a dangerously steep angle. The boy had clearly had much practice on the broom. Probably his relatives had given him his first one when he was quite young.

"Spoiled Brat!" thought Severus Snape.


	10. Halloween

**Chapter 10: Halloween**

It was a slightly overcast autumn morning with the cool rays of the sun filtering through the windows of the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts. The shiny machines on tables throughout the room glinted whenever the sun pushed through another cloud. The school had not yet come to life. The yearly Halloween party had taken place the previous evening, and although the festivities had been broken off early because of an incident, many of the student were still taking advantage of the free morning to sleep in and get a good night's sleep.

Albus Dumbledore inhaled with pleasure the scent of his morning tea just as the fireplace flickered green and a man dressed in black robes stepped through the flames.

"Good morning, Severus," he greeted him smiling. "Please sit. Did you have a pleasant trip?"

"Certainly not," grumbled Severus Snape. The armchairs were far too soft for his taste but he settled into one of them anyway, and he took in all the details of the room around him. It did not escape his attention that the newspaper was already open on the desk. He anticipated where this conversation would lead. "I had to take a round-a-bout route because of Midas Fox's security precautions. He is watching to make sure that I don't leak anything about his precious little golden boy to the press.

As one might expect, Albus ignored the complaint entirely and immediately plunged into his favorite topic.

"Oh yes, Harry! Well now, how is he? Are his studies progressing well?"

Severus had not difficulty in translating these word into what his old headmaster really wanted to ask, "Is there a reason to remove him from the Dursleys?" and "Does he have magic talent worth mentioning?" He resolved to answer the more unpleasant question first.

"He is promising in some areas," he admitted reluctantly. "A disaster in potion, but he has a certain talent for Defense. But he is lazy and inattentive. What few talents he has he had neglected, just like his father did."

Actually, it was more than just a little talent, even if Severus would never admit it. Two weeks ago he had started teaching Harry practical Defense. His eager student had learned very quickly not only the jelly-leg spell, but the full body-bind as well, even though it was second year material. Otherwise, the boy was a complete mystery. On some days his essays were acceptable. Indeed, while stylistically they always left a lot to be desired, they were thoroughly researched and the content had few errors. On other days he had the impression that Harry spent the shortest amount of time possible and just slapped something together in order to be able to at least turn in something.

"I understand," said Albus, leaving Severus with the nasty feeling that he did exactly. Albus Dumbledore had always been able to read between the lines. He was so good in it that he didn't even have to avail himself very often of occlumency. "What are they having him doing then, while they allow him to neglect his talents?" A smile played around his lips and Severus had the impression that he was laughing at him.

Severus was just about to begin a long tirade about the spoilt brat when Albus interrupted him.

"Thinking it over, maybe it would be better if you if you simply show me your memories." He said pointing to his own temple. "If it is alright with you."

It was not alright with Severus, actually. He hated to have his thoughts displayed. But he also knew the benefits of such an approach, therefore he agreed, and together they looked at his memories.

It was a strange feeling to watch his own behavior from another point of view. Now it struck him for the first time that Harry only ruined his potions, when he felt Severus watching him. Well that was it! A good brewing master could not let his attention be distracted from his task by anything or anybody. Maybe he should keep an even sharper eye on the boy from now on.

Of the Dursleys, he had only a few memories. Some were of parties, which Petunia had given, that he had observed from afar. Others of Harry with his cousin riding his child's motorcycle as they played a kin do catch me game, before he had departed for boarding school. And lastly, of Vernon, as he left being driven to the golf links by his chauffeur.

Albus looked at closely every memory, and finally let one of Petunia's parties solidify. Er betrachtete lange die Villa. He took a long look at the mansion.

"A large house on a large plot of land, is not it," he murmured thoughtfully.

"The house is a mansion, and this plot of land, is a property," said Severus scathingly. "As you can see, there is absolutely nothing to be concerned about. Potter is waited on hand and foot.

"That certainly may be so," replied the wise headmaster. „Doch wer bezahlt das alles?" "Nevertheless, who pays for everything?"

Severus' eyes got large and he looked at him. He knew immediately what Albus meant, and he was appalled by his own blindness. He was a spy, he should have noticed immediately. Vernon Dursley did not work. However, he threw around money like it was nothing. Money, which as Severus now recognized, legally belonged to Harry. It would be one thing if this money was used exclusively for Harry. But the extravagant parties, designer jewelry, and expensive cars, were things that only served the Dursleys. Obviously they were not beneath stealing from their own nephew.

"And there is another thing. Has it struck you at all that none of the staff seems to notice Harry?"

"And why should they? The boy is not even polite enough to greet you."

"Now, now!" The tone was probably intended to be pacifying. However, Severus absolutely hated to be treated like a rebellious child. "He always greets you very politely. And if Midas is approaching, he almost radiates. But the housekeepers – apparently they do not perceive him at all, and he reacts accordingly. A consequence of the Fidelius charm?"

"Well, if they do not know that he is there, then Midas Fox is just paranoid, which is not the worst trait. If we have difficulties finding Potter, then not Death Eater will succeed."

"Except if he slangs a camera around his neck. I would be more comfortable if Harry were here at Hogwarts, especially after recent events…" he stared thoughtfully into space. Severus pulled up an eyebrow questioningly.

"What event?" he asked pulling Albus from his thoughts.

"A truly remarkable story. During the festivities yesterday somehow a troll got into the castle. He nearly injured a first year. Fortunately, she succeeded in escaping from the girl's toilet and in holding the door closed long enough until reinforcements could rush to help her."

"A Troll? In the castle? The Philosopher's Stone… "

"… Is still in place. Do not worry about it. Your task is to take care of Harry. "

With a bad feeling Severus thought of the stone which lay hidden in the castle, protected by many bobby-traps. He had himself created one of the traps before he had staged the dispute with Dumbledore and left the school. But the incident with the troll made him suspect that someone, already inside the castle, had their sight set on the stone. And here he was, forced to spend his time with Potter, while someone was trying to steal the precious gem. He did not know how he could endure it.

……………………_.._

_A/n: In the book Harry says to Ron at one point that Hermione would not have needed their assistance at all, if they hadn't locked her up with the troll. I just assumed then that she would have been able to escape from the toilet. _


	11. The accident

**Chapter 11: The Accident**

After his visit to Hogwarts, Severus was even more dissatisfied with his position as Potter's private tutor. The Philosopher's Stone was an extremely powerful magic object, and he could not allow it to fall into unworthy hands. But now he would have no control over the matter. Instead he was forced to babysit James Potter's bloody offspring.

One rainy October morning, he observed irritated how Potter endeavored to brew a correct forgetfulness potion. Since he had recognized how nervous Potter got to work under his watchful eyes, Severus had made it a point to always look in his direction. To him there was a certain sadistic satisfaction to how the boy writhed, even if it cost him valuable time when he could have been finishing some sensible task.

Although he gave the appearance that he was watching Potter all the time, his thoughts nevertheless drifted over and over again. Dumbledore had said he didn't need to worry. But Severus was no idiot. It was simply not possible that a troll got into Hogwarts simply by pure coincidence. Someone must have let it in. Someone who wanted to create a diversion. Someone who was after the stone.

Severus knew his colleagues well enough to at least guess what type of traps they had set up. With some he was even sure. Pomona would have chosen a plant which, without the right charm, wouldn't be easy to get past. Quirrell would use some dark creature that only a wizard with the right knowledge could defeat and Hagrid one of his strange pets. Filius would never choose something that could hurt someone, so it was probably something that an intruder could only figure out with a lot of skill – in Snape's eyes this would be a much better idea than some supposedly unbreakable charm. With Minerva he was only sure that it would have something to do with transformation, and Albus would have - well, he did not even try to guess what the old magician would have done. As he thought of the headmaster, Severus almost had the feeling he really had not need to worry, but nobody had yet invented protections that were invincible. Perhaps the thief was at this very moment making his way through.

Severus closed his eyes for a moment and rubbed his temples. The situation had him on edge. The weather had him on edge. And Potter in particular had him on edge. Potter, who was happily stirring his cauldron without paying the slightest attention to the fact that it was high time to add the next ingredient.

Secretly pleased finally have found an outlet for his anger, Severus rushed toward his pupil.

"Potter! Please kindly watch what you are doing! "

Potter jerked and then reached uncertainly for the pulverized snake teeth.

"Kindly read the instructions correctly!"

With an annoyed movement, Severus reached for a spoonful of herb instead, and emptied the contents into the cauldron - a millisecond before he realized that the bubbling brew had already turned a yellow-red color. This meant that Harry had been two steps farther along that he had believe, and obviously was just stirring too slowly. Severus' attention must have been diverted longer than he had realized. And if you added a second spoonful of the same herb again after the beetle eyes had been added, then …

A dark red flash of flame shot up from the cauldron. With a started scream Potter jumped back and threw an arm protectively in front of his face. Too late! Flaming liquid sprayed his face, forming small blisters on his cheeks and hands. Whimpering he sank to the ground.

Severus was luckier. Because he was taller, his head was far above the level of the cauldron, and only his eyebrows were slightly singed, and the hand with which he had added the spoonful of her was slightly red. Otherwise he escaped without harm. With a quick _'evanesco' _he made the contents of the cauldron disappear and then he turned to Potter.

First, he said a cooling spell over him, and then he examined the boy's wounds. His arms and his upper body were had stayed protected by his clothes, but his hands were now a blazing red. Dozens of small blisters had formed, making it impossible for Harry to move his fingers. Severus felt sorry for the boy. The human hands were designed to be able to pickup and touch things. So there were dozens of nerve endings that sent every sensation to the brain. A small cut could be perceived as very painful, and these injuries were by far worse. Harry had to be suffering hellish pain.

However Severus first looked at his face. The injuries there were not quite so bad. Severus never thought that the day would come when he would be happy about those stilly glasses which made Harry look so much like James Potter, however that day had come. It the flash had caught Harry wrong, he would have gone blind, but the glasses saved him. Both lenses were cracked by the heat, but his eyes themselves had fortunately survived unhurt. Tears sprang to Harry's eyes and rolled down his chilly skin, and dripped from his chin to the ground while he made whimpering noises. His whole body was trembling and his teeth clattering uncontrollably, either from shock or because of the cooling charm. Severus hopped imploringly it was the latter. The other injuries he could handle, but shock would be better treated by a healer. That would bring up many unpleasant questions that Midas would not be pleased about.

Severus quickly grabbed the correct healing ointment from the shelf and applied it carefully to the injured skin. As he did he spoke in what he hoped was a reassuring tone to Harry. The whole thing was his fault. Sure, Harry had already ruined the potion. If he had left it the pale yellow color, only a little bit of hot steam would have come from the cauldron. But that was beside the point.

In his whole life Severus had never acted of impulsively when it came to brewing. It was a golden rule of every potions master, that you should always check the color and consistency of a potion, before adding anything else. Another golden rule was to always know exactly what had just happened with the potion. In a classroom full of students, that was not always so easy to achieve, but that is only because it is hard to pay particular attention to what each student did. But this time he had only one student to watch.

He was responsible for the boy. He had to keep an eye on him. That was his job. Instead, he had endangered him by his rash action. Sure, accidents happen during brewing. But not to him. His uncontrolled anger could have cost Harry his eyesight. Nobody would have trusted him near a child if that had happened. And while he did not particularly liked his job as a teacher and was proud to be feared by the students, he did not want to be seen as a child abuser. Not even to James Potters spawn.

Harry remained, apart from the occasional whimper, surprising quiet while Severus treated his wounds. The shivering stopped, much to the relief of the potions master, slowly but surely. The blisters also disappeared bit by bit. Apparently he would not need a healer.

"Lessons are over to today. Lie down and rest. If you still have pain, to not be afraid to come to me."

Harry looked at him with big eyes, and then nodding silently he got up from the floor and crept toward the door with his head down. When he pressed down the door handle, Severus held him back once again.

"Potter!" Harry turned slowly around. "Such a thing will not happen again," promised Severus. Harry nodded and then finally left the laboratory. Severus stared for a long time at the closed door. He would have to do something to make up to Harry for his rash action.


	12. Oldridge

**Chapter 12: Oldridge**

After the accident nothing basically changed in Professor Snape's behavior. He still criticized Harry sharply and watched him with eagle eyes each time he reached for the cauldron in potions class.

However, Harry was more relaxed during these hours, because even if nothing had changed outwardly, the underlying tension, which had prevailed before between him and his teacher, had lessened. Not enough that Harry was really relaxed in his presence, but enough that he was not completely cowering.

Harry had understood Snape's words after the accident as an apology and a promise. Not because of his choice of words. If you went by the words alone, then Snape would have accused Harry of be the only guilty party. But the tone for a change was not despising, but rather apologetic, and the conscience-stricken look of the professor, had spoken a different language.

Harry had always felt increasingly uneasy in Snape's presence. From the very first moment he had felt that the professor did not like him. He always seemed to be suppressing his anger. An anger that was clearly directed against Harry.

Harry had experience with angry people. His Uncle Vernon, for example, was often angry, and it didn't matter if Harry was the cause of his anger or not, he was always the one who in the end ultimately had to pay the price for it. Dudley released his aggression regularly with his favorite game: Harry Hunting. And Mr. Oldridge used the power he had over Harry to the fullest.

It was not surprising then, that from the moment he met him that Harry had reacted with nervousness to his new teacher's evident aversion. And ultimately this mistrust proved true. The potions accident had only happened because of the intemperance of his teacher. Snape had lost his patience, and Harry had to suffer from it.

The fact that he had not apologized in words had not trouble Harry much. Nobody except Midas had ever apologized to him, and then it was with a present or a comforting hug. The only person on the property, who regularly had to say the word "apology", was Harry himself. And if he did, it was only because his uncle forced him to. It was not surprising then, that Harry didn't put a lot of importance in what people said.

Apart from Midas, everyone else seemed to be on the opinion that it was entirely okay to hurt Harry. And perhaps it should be so. Maybe a freak like him didn't deserve to be treated otherwise. But this was different. Professor Snape had shown him that he was sorry. Not by words, but by the careful kind way in which he had treated his wounds. And then he had promised him that not such thing would happen again.

Harry believed him. He believed that despite his anger that he hadn't meant to injure his student and that he would be more careful in the future. And because Harry believed it, he had become much calmer in his presence.

This of course also had an impact on his performance. Snape still found something to mark down about his work every time, but at least his potions were not longer turning into a slimy mass.

His favorite subject was still Charms. First, because he was eager to wave his magic wand whenever he could, but also because the subject was taught by Midas. His second favorite classes on the popularity scale were Defense against the Dark Arts (especially since Snape mad fewer biting comments) and History of Magic. Harry only wished they would finally discuss more current topics. Midas was able to make every theme exciting. Nevertheless there must be important events which did not date back over five hundred years.

Harry still spent hours filled with fear in Transformation. Somehow Oldridge always found a way to make the classroom as uncomfortable as possible for his student. So Harry's performance did not improve, quite the opposite. Whenever Oldridge tested him, he would yell at him for practically nothing. He had mentioned to Midas how much he hated his teacher, but he only responded by reminding him he would have to cope with all sorts of unpleasant people in life. He was very clear to Harry that he could not expect any help on this. And if Midas would not help him, then certainly nobody else would either.

"Let's go Harry! I'm waiting! Or have you possibly not practiced?" Oldridge regarded his pupil with a wide grin. Harry knew that look. It meant that his teach had thought up a new punishment should he fail. But the harder he tried, the less successful he was at switching the edge of the plate before him with the colored tape beside it.

"Well do it! You had this whole weekend to practice."

That was not true as Oldridge certainly knew. Sure, Harry had had a lot of time this weekend. The sky had been cloudy on Saturday evening, so Midas had canceled the Astronomy lesson, and a special day had also not been lined up. But he hadn't had his wand.

As before, he had to turn over his wand after lessons were over. Sometimes, when Midas remained with him for a little while in the evening, he was allowed to practice a little longer under his supervision. Otherwise the wand disappeared somewhere into Oldridge's office as a 'safety precaution'.

Since he couldn't practice for his lessons, he had focused mostly on the theory. Strictly speaking, he was also not allowed to take any of him books on magic into the mail house, but because no really paid any attention to him he always smuggled one or two into his room. Then at least he had something to do if his Uncle Vernon got the idea, for whatever reason, to lock him in his room for the weekend.

Otherwise, his classroom with its small library was always open to him. He had the whole weekend, as soon as he had done his other homework, to read up on everything he could about switching spells. And yet Oldridge hadn't even thought to ask him for the simplest definition. It was only his unsuccessful attempts at the practical task that he talked about.

Oldridge bent menacingly over him.

"Maybe I should demonstrate the spell to you once more. Give me your left hand!"

Harry shook his head.

"Well, hurry up!" Oldridge thundered loudly.

Harry knew he had no choice. Andy refusal would only bring worse consequences. Hesitantly, he stretched out his trembling left hand.

Oldridge waved his wand. _"Digiti Mutaro!"_ he cried. Harry felt a stinging pain and hastily pulled back his hand. At first glace, nothing seemed to have changed, but then he saw it. Oldridge had swapped his index finger with his ring finger. Carefully Harry moved his hand. It was a strange feeling, if he wanted to point to something, the finger that moved was where his ring finger used to be, wile the finger next to the thumb curved automatically.

"I would not move your hand too much. You never know whether or not it will hinder switching it back later."

Harry looked at him frightened.

"Please, switch it back!" Normally he would not have begged and gone instead that evening to Midas. But Harry knew that Midas was traveling for some business negotiations he had underway, and would only return on Friday.

"I'm sorry, but the hour is up. Ask me again on Thursday. And you had better be prepared." With these words Oldridge tore his wand out his hand and left the room.

With his eyes brimming with tears, Harry stared at his cursed hand. What now? Even if he could get to his magic wand, the magic that would be necessary here was still far beyond his abilities. Midas was not here, and Snape, even if he wasn't as malicious as he was earlier, certainly would not help, especially not when he learned that this was his punishment for doing sloppy homework. Snape hated laziness.

There was probably nothing left for him to do, except to endure the punishment in silence and to keep his hand as still as possible. Not that he had any great desire to move his fingers. It was a far too disagreeable feeling. He only hoped that Oldridge could really reverse the magic.

_Note: The Philosophers Stone Hermione mentions that she would have gotten points because she knew everything about "Switching Spells". In a later volume Neville practices such a charm and mistakenly switches his ears with a cactus._

_Roughly translates: exchange fingers_


	13. The Pig in the Pantry

**Chapter 13: The Pig in the Pantry**

Severus observed how Potter crept into the classroom on Tuesday morning with his head lowered. He knew this posture only too well. It mean that Harry had one again not adequately practiced his magical spells.

Severus simply did not understand it. Potter's essays were always acceptable, stylistically not necessarily outstanding, but thoroughly researched and on the whole correct. But if he gave him a new magic spell to practice, then more often than not he appeared the next day obviously unprepared for the lesson.

In the beginning he had simply attributed it to laziness on the part of the boy. But he had seen in the meantime that this really didn't make sense. Severus knew full well that Potter was downright enthusiastic about using his wand for the practical work, so why would he not do the homework, when he would need to use it?

On this morning Severus ordinarily taught Herbology, and then used the freshly harvested ingredients for new potions. But that would mean a one day grace period for Potter in which he still might be able to make up his work. Severus wanted to drill into him that his homework should be done immediately, so he immediately tossed his plans in the garbage.

"Before we go into the greenhouse, I would like to briefly check your progress in your Defense against the Dark Arts. I expect that you have been practicing diligently?"

His student made himself as small as possible.

"No!" he whispered.

"Mr. Potter! You should practice your curses diligently! Or do you possibly believe in your arrogance, that you are untouchable? Does it surprise you to hear that at this moment the even a halfway trained wizard could make dragon fodder from you within minutes?"

Potter shook his head.

"Why then did you not practice, as I assigned you to?"

Potter mumbled something incomprehensible.

"What was that?"

Suddenly, the boy lost control.

"You know why quite well," he shouted at his teacher. Startled by his own conduct he then took a step back and explained a little more quietly: "I didn't have a wand."

This had to be probably the most stupid excuse which Severus had ever heard.

"You want me to believe that you lost your wand? For the entire weekend?"

Potter stared at him aghast.

"But – you really don't know then?"

Slowly the whole thing was getting on Severus' nerves.

"What, please, do I not know?" he asked bitingly. Potter stared at him a moment longer as if he wanted to assess whether his teacher was speaking the truth (the impertinence!), then he lowered his eyes and stoked his left hand nervously.

"I cannot use magic in the main house," he explained. "It is not allowed. So I have to turn over my wand immediately after the lessons. I can practice only if somebody supervises me. And because Midas is on vacation this week…" he grew silent.

Severus was angry with himself that he had not noticed! If he thought back now, then it appeared obvious that Potter did not practice whenever Midas Fox had much to do.

He began to try and question Potter further, however, now the boy was staring at the floor again, his shoulders hunched, and lips pressed firmly together. No, at the moment sharp questioning would meet only stony silence. So he quickly changed his tactics.

"Under these circumstances we will go into the greenhouse. The practical exercises I assigned you will wait until I have the opportunity to speak with either Mr. Fox or your aunt."

In fact this would be a good opportunity to observe Potter's official guardian up close. Normally, he was directed to make all inquires to Midas Fox. But since he was currently unavailable, Potter's aunt was the next logical contact. Plus, he really would like to know how much Petunia had changed over the years.

Potter had not stirred from the spot, but looked at Severus with big astonished looking eyes. Merin! What had the boy expected? That he would waste his valuable time by letting Potter demonstrate the stunning spell after he found out the boy had not been able to practice? Certainly not!

"Mr. Potter, I would prefer it, if you would finally follow my instructions. You still know where the greenhouse is located, do you not?"

--OOOOOOOO--

THUD! A flower pot fell to the ground. Angry, Severus put aside the bronze knife with which he was about to harvest the legs from some hopping toadstools. Potter was really awkward today. First he took and eternity to slip on his protective gloves. Then he ruined a magnificent flutterby bush, because he was apparently unable to trim it properly, and now a fanged geranium was also lying helplessly after smashing itself on the ground. It was really no big thing, besides the young plants needed to be repotted! The stalks were just long enough that the blossoms could at the most reach the hands of the boy, and the teeth were not strong enough yet to be able to bite through the thick work gloves.

Frightened, Harry looked at the broken pieces of glass, and then to his teacher.

"I'm sorry, sir. I… I will clean this up immediately."

"Do that, Mr. Potter. But be warned. I will not appreciate any further displays of your apparently innate clumsiness."

Potter knelt down wordlessly to save the plant. Severus observed his with sharp eyes, how he shifted it into the other pot and then with his right hand filled it with new earth. Then he seized the dust pan with his right hand, set it on the ground, put his left hand cautiously on the handle without bending his fingers, and then swept the dirt and shards into the pan. Then he put the broom aside and once more using his right hand emptied the contents of the dust pan into a bucket.

Severus waited until he rose and leaned the broom against the wall before he addressed it.

"Potter, come here right now!"

The boy obeyed haltingly.

"What is wrong with your left hand?"

Potter automatically hid his hand behind his back. It probably wasn't the most subtle move.

"It's nothing important, sir," he protested.

"Show me your hand immediately!"

Hesitantly Potter pulled his hand from behind his back and held it out to Severus, who looked at it intensely. At first glance, everything was in order if you disregarded the fact that the glove did not seem to fit properly, and also when he took it off, at first Severus saw nothing wrong, but then he drew in a sharp breath. Someone had switched the boy's index finger with his ring finger.

"Who did this?" he demanded to know. Actually, he did not need the answer. This was clearly the work of a wizard, and to his knowledge, Potter had contact with only three wizards: Midas Fox, Clarence Oldridge, and he him. And he had not done it, and Midas Fox, even if he would credit him with quite a lot of unscrupulousness, was not on the property at the moment. There remained only one.

"Mr. Oldridge," confirmed Potter with acceptance in his quiet voice.

"And why did he do this?"

Now Potter's voice began to tremble.

"I… I didn't have my homework done, and so…. I couldn't do the switching spell."

Severus could barely believe what he heard.

"What was your homework assignment? Should you have practiced the spell?"

Nod.

"But you couldn't do this because your wand was locked away?"

He nodded again.

"Have you informed Mr. Oldridge?"

He shook his head. The answered in a low quiet voice looking at the floor: "He knew it already."

Like he himself had already known, according to Potter? He thought not!

"Are you sure?"

Nevertheless, Potter just looked up at him, his eyes brimming.

"Of course he knew it. He took it away himself on Friday. He always keeps it in his office. I… I had to study for the hour, so that I could try and satisfy him anyhow. I read everything on the theory that I could find. And I was so excited – but I couldn't find any more. And then… I really tried to do the spell. But I just couldn't do it. So he punished me by switching my fingers. And then… then…" the rest of his story went to hiccups. Tears now ran freely down his face.

Severus pulled a handkerchief from his robes and passed it to the boy. He could hardly believe what he had just heard. Harry Potter, savior of the Wizarding world, had been abused by his own teacher! Severus was sure that this was not the first incidence of this kind. He himself had not managed to reduce Potter to tears yet. Oldridge had to have been torturing the boy systematically for the last three months. Maybe even before when he had only been the security guard.

Severus snorted. Security Officer! What grim irony! That was like if one had entrusted a pig with the supervision of the pantries and then handed him the key to them later on.

The question was what should he do now? What he wanted first of all, was for Potter to stop this pointless crying. Afterwards he would reverse the spell on his hand, and then finish the lessons for today. It was high time that he had a serious chat with Petunia.


	14. Crime and Punishment?

**Chapter 14: Crime and Punishment?**

Severus did not even wait until Potter stopped with the nerve wracking sobbing. With a casual wave of his wand he fixed the boy's hand and then let him go with the words: "The lessons are finished for today. Finish cleaning up the pieces of broken glass before you go."

Then he left the greenhouse and strode with long vigorous steps towards the main house. At this time of day he would be certain to find Petunia. She never left the house before twelve o'clock. A call from behind him made him stop.

"Professor Snape! Wait for me!"

Severus turned around indignantly. Even though he hadn't counted it, Midas Fox was approaching. Shouldn't he be gone until the end of the week? The red-haired wizard came to stand next to him, breathing heavily.

"You know," he gasped, "that you are to keep away from the main house. Not that the staff will notice you."

"I have an urgent matter to discuss with Mrs. Dursley."

"You know you are to contact me if you have any problems. Come on, let's find a more comfortable place where we can discuss the matter calmly."

Severus let himself be led back into the guest house. What choice did he have? If he openly opposed Midas Fox, he would lose his job faster than he could say monkshood.

And so he found himself five minutes later in the apparation room having a long conversation with Midas Fox. Once more they sat down in the living room area.

"Coffee? Midas Fox offered. Severus nodded. Without further question he was handed the drink black with no sugar.

"I must admit you have made me curious," announced Midas Fox. "It seems to be a matter of great concern that had you in such a hurry. Should you not tell me now?"

"And should you not still be on your business trip?"

"The negotiations are… somewhat difficult. I have decided to tantalize my business partners for a while. So I broke off discussions for today and used the opportunity to check up on Harry."

Sure, and Goblins hated gold! Severus did not believe in coincidences. Somehow Midas had known what he had planned to do, and had acted accordingly. Severus was angry about the fact that he had been outmaneuvered, but outwardly he didn't let on.

"Then it is indeed fortunate that you have returned. I have made a very disturbing discovery, which required immediate attention. Are you aware that Mr. Oldridge has abused his position?"

Severus watched his counterpart closely, but everything he could read on Midas Fox's face was honest (or very well acted) confusion.

"How so? Have you discovered a gap in the security measures?"

"I am not talking about his position as a security expert, but as a teacher. During his classes he has tortured Harry."

His counterpart laughed quietly.

"Has Harry also complained about him? Clarence is not a particularly affable man, but Harry must learn to cope anyway. It is not right that he is pampered by everyone, just because he is a celebrity. The Dursley's are quiet lenient enough."

Severus felt extremely uncomfortable at the mention of this argument. It was the same context which he had used to justify his own harsh behavior toward Harry to Dumbledore. At the same time, he could hardly believe what he was hearing. Apparently Potter had trusted his adult friend – and he had abandoned him. It was no wonder that Potter had not expected any help from him either. But he would get it! With calm words Severus described in the smallest detail what he had seen and experienced. When he was done, his counterpart buried his face in his hands.

"I never thought it had gotten that bad," explained Midas Fox regretfully. "I thought that it was only a few harsh words. Clarence hates people who are more successful than he is, and in particular if they are not a pure-blood. But he has been responsible for Harry's security for many years, and has always performed excellent work up until now." Suddenly he looked up. "And this punishment was because Harry had not practiced?" he asked.

"Yes, although Mr. Oldridge himself had the wand in his custody. Which brings me to the question, why have I not been informed about this senseless wand rule? What does it say to the boy, when I tell him to practice when he doesn't have the tools necessary?"

"I was not aware that no one informed you," protested Midas Fox as an excuse. "I would also prefer that Harry always had his wand with him. There are threats lurking everywhere. But the Dursleys are concerned that Harry could injure himself with careless magic. As they themselves are muggles, they couldn't help him if anything happened. I can understand their concern. Harry is very excited about magic, and wants to use his wand as much as possible. In that regard he had neither patience nor self-discipline."

Severus could not deny this. However he was still concerned that in the long run it would be extremely detrimental to Potter if he could not practice his spells.

A half hour later, he came out of the apparation room extremely annoyed. Now not only did he have to supervise Potter for one hour every evening while he practiced his lessons, no, he also now had to teach him in Transfiguration. And Transfiguration was his weakest field. But his skills would probably be sufficient enough to teach a first-year.

Now he had to endure the pain-in-the-neck boy even longer, while Oldridge had not even been dismissed. Midas Fox had clearly stated that he would remain as security expert.

"Indeed, I do not like it at all, but he knows the security measures much too well. But I will ensure that Harry does not have to see his torturer every day."

Which you could translate as: "I can't dismiss him because he could turn against us, and he knows too much. But I will keep an eye on him that he doesn't hurt Harry again."

Severus thought that this was a logical consideration. And, besides, maybe even something good would come out of it. Midas Fox was traveling more often and could not constantly watch out for Potter. If Oldridge were to continue to play his sadistic games with the boy, then he would have to find enough proof of it to be able to inform the ministry. Even if they did not immediately revoke the Dursley's custody, it would at least focus the light on Midas Fox. With the argument that he had known about Oldridge's unbecoming behavior and covered it up, it would certainly be easy to remove him from the side of the Dursleys. And once their advisor was out of the way, it would be much easier for Albus to get to Potter.

Naturally, it would have even better if the Dursley's themselves tormented Harry. But this did not seem to be the case. Rather to the contrary, they were obviously very concerned about losing their monetary wellspring. And since he was waited on hand and foot, Harry would hardly testify against them.

Unless of course, if he was able to convince Potter that they had been robbing him. But how should he do that? He couldn't just appeal to the boy, because he was not allowed to talk to him about his fame. Certainly he could ignore this ban. But he was sure that after today's events that Midas Fox would find out about it immediately if he did, and dismiss him. So Severus decided to play it safe and wait until he had collected all the information first.

_(Note: I know, I know. It is not what you expected. Please do not lash out! I have my reasons for it, and why I made it so. *hides from furious readers*)_


	15. Christmas

**Chapter 15: Christmas**

Severus was at his wit's end. He had applied every diagnostic magic spell that he knew. However, the results remained the same. Neither the classroom, nor the greenhouse, had any listening spells.

But Severus knew more now about Potter and the safety precautions on the property, than ever before. He knew that Potter (the spoilt brat) had an entire wing to himself. He knew that the anti-apparation protection around the main house was about eight years old, and around the rest of the property, however, was much more recent. And he knew that nobody could enter or leave the property without Oldridge knowing it.

Severus did not dare to talk with Potter about the possibility that his relative have been robbing him. Not until he knew how Midas Fox was finding out about his plans. It could not have been a coincidence that he returned just in time to keep him away from the Dursleys. This theory was supported further by an event that happened in early December.

_As good as Potter's progress in the other subjects was, in Transfiguration he regularly drove Severus to despair. As soon as he took him magic wand in his hand, it was as if he had forgotten everything he had already learned. And the times when he did everything right, he will was not enough. Severus knew what it was. After all the failures under Oldridge's rule, Potter didn't think himself capable of succeeding. Therefore he was very nervous and made many mistakes. _

_Severus would have ordinarily have made fun of such a student before the whole class. Either they learned to pull it together, or they left his classroom in shame. _

_With Potter, he could not proceed in this manner. On the one hand, it was only half as much fun to insult him when nobody else was there to laugh at Potter, on the other hand he would only be rid of his student if he got fired (in which case he would have failed his mission), or if he had gotten him away from his relative. However, to do that, he had to win the trust of the boy. _

_So he did his best to not destroy the damaged self-confidence of his student even further. As a consequence, on some days he had the feeling he would suffocate from all the remarks he held on his tongue. Finally, the dam burst. _

"_Damn it all, Potter! Concentrate! Even you father, as inept as he was, had a certain talent for this subject!"_

_Potter look at him with big eyes._

"_Did you know my father as well?"_

_Slightly irritated Severus replied: "We were in the same year at Hogwarts. Just like your mother."_

"_What were they like?"_

_Potter seemed to have forgotten the lesson completely, and who it was he was bothering with his questions. Or at least it seemed to make no difference to his at the time._

"_What were they like? I am sure your aunt has told you every detail about them."_

_Severus believed that this would put an end to the disagreeable subject and they could return to the lesson, however there he was mistaken._

"_Aunt Petunia doesn't like it if I ask her any questions about them." Potter contradicted him and looked at him pleadingly._

_Severus did not believe he was the right person to tell him about Lily and James Potter. In his thoughts he cursed Petunia Dursley. He knew that adoptive parents were often inclined to withhold knowledge of the birth parents from the children; sometimes they even left them in the belief that they themselves were their real parents. In Severus' eyes such possessive behavior was selfish and wrong._

_Surely, Potter just had to open the right textbook to find out about his parents, but it was only the Wizarding world's picture of them. It was not as they really were. And except for Petunia Dursley, he was the only one in Potter's environment that really knew them._

"_James Potter was very_ (arrogantly) _sure of himself." Severus censored his thoughts fast as he spoke. "He had a_ (extremely small) _talent for Transformation and Quidditch. He was a seeker and later captain of the Gryffindor team. And he was_ (a braggart) _constantly putting himself in the middle of action. Only Lily was not particularly impressed. She constantly gave him the brush-off_ (much to my satisfaction every time_), only in their last year she_ (unfortunately) _fell for him. Her talent was, by the way, Charms and," at this point Severus threw Potter a sharp look, "Potions." _

_Severus thought about what else he could still tell. It was really hard to say something flattering about James Potter and Lily…_

…_the door was suddenly thrown open._

"_Excuse me, Professor Snape!" Midas Fox said, "But may I borrow Harry for a moment? I must discuss something with him in private."_

Severus never knew what it was that had to be discussed so urgently. But he also did not believe that it had been really important. The only reason why the red-haired wizard took Potter out of class, had been that Severus was about to speak to him about a taboo subject. And Potter never again asked about his parents.

Severus knew he had been overheard. Only he didn't know how. He must be doubly careful now while on the property, he didn't dare any further visits to Dumbledore.

But today it was time for the last lesson for the time being. Supposedly he would be spending his time over Christmas and New Years with friends. In truth, he was merely going to Spinners End by himself, and meanwhile be meeting secretly with Dumbledore.

A quick glance at the clock told him that he had already supervised Potter for a full hour while he practiced.

"I think that is enough for today," he said. "Give me you want, and then we will meet again after the holiday."

Potter lowered the wand and obediently put it down on the desk. But he did not go. Instead he drew something from his pocket and handed it to his teacher.

"What is this?" Severus asked as he saw with revulsion on a package wrapped in colored newsprint.

"A Christmas gift, Sir," Potter said respectfully.

Severus did not know why the boy had given him a gift, but he decided that he must have thought it was expected of him. With pointed fingers he unrolled the newsprint. Out rolled a wooden snake, obviously carved. It was simple, but also a very beautiful piece. Severus could not help but admire the boy's skill.

"Well, courtesy requires that I now thank you! But why a snake?"

While Severus had been once the head of Slytherin House, he did not believe that Potter was aware of it.

"I saw the snake symbol on your notebook," explained Potter, he eyes totally fixed on the gift that Severus had now apparently carelessly placed aside. "I thought it would please you." The boy talked on, but what came from his mouth now, were not human sounds, but uncanny hissing noises. Severus stared at him horrified.

"What was that?" he asked violently and stood up from his chair in a quick movement.

Potter withdrew in fright.

"It… I am sorry. I just thought…"

He turned around and ran from the room. Severus let himself fall back in his chair. A parselmouth! Potter was a parselmouth! How could that be possible?

_(Note: Well, my beta says that she is becoming slowly curious how Midas is able to eavesdrop on Snape. __I will tell you….at the very end of the story. But feel free to speculate._

_I want to explain something about my policy concerning reviews: I will answer every question about my writing or the story so far. I won't answer any question which will spoil the story for you. I won't answer every review, only the ones which raise an important point. But I will be thankful for every mistake you point out, and I am a sucker for real critic. Many people have put me on their favorite or alert lists without leaving a review, and I am totally okay with that. I know some writers are annoyed if their readers are doing this, but I prefer one detailed critical review over hundreds one-liner. Not that I am not happy about someone who tells me "good job", but if you only want to review if you have to say something meaningful go for it! But if you leave a one-liner, don't forget that the praise is not mine alone but also DracaDelirus who spend so much time to translate the original story.)_


	16. Lucky Charm

**Chapter 16: Lucky Charm**

Harry's Christmas did not promise to be especially happy. Like always, the Dursley wanted the holidays completely to themselves, leaving him alone and forbidding him to leave his rooms. And so he sat on Christmas Eve at the window, staring through the drizzle into the brightly let drawing room window. Harry knew that behind it under a splendidly decorated tree, a whole mountain of gifts waited for Dudley (who had come home for the holidays).

When the light over there dimmed, Harry turned away and went over to his own small tree. Actually, it was only one fir branch which he had secretly smuggled into the house and then fastened to the wall behind the door, so that even if the Dursleys were to come into his room, they wouldn't discover it. He had even decorated it himself with small carved figures of angels, and with glittering candy wrappers that Dudley had littered on the wet lawn three days ago, in his usual unthinking way. Now he placed the package that Midas had given him at their last meeting under it. And then he went to bed.

But he did not fall asleep immediately. His thoughts still circled around the gift that he had made for Professor Snape. He had thought it was such a good idea, a way to show his teacher that he was grateful for his help.

Furthermore, Harry liked to give gifts. It was great fun for him to think up something suitable and then to make his gift as perfectly as possible. At first it was just simple sketches or paper folded up into figurines, but since Midas had given him a penknife two years ago he made carvings. This year Harry had carved him a picture frame as a gift, and Midas had insisted that he would put a photo of Harry in it.

He had hoped that Snape would have reacted similarly. Oh he would have been satisfied if the sullen man had shown even a spark of joy. Instead he had thoughtlessly put the gift aside. And he had looked so angry. Then when Harry tried to explain to him that he just wanted to show him his gratitude, and that he liked him even though he was always so strict, he became even more furious. What did he do wrong? - Harry was not sure whether Snape had reacted so because he had called him strict or because he hated the idea that Harry might like him. Harry was afraid it had been the latter.

It was exactly like the Dursleys, he decided. They endured him because they had to, but they never spent any time with him other than absolutely necessary. In a certain sense, this attitude was mutually reciprocated, but the difference was that Harry would have gladly been a member of the family if he could, if only they would have wanted him.

Snape was forced as his teacher to spend nearly every day with him. But as far as personal conversations between them, there were virtually none. At first Harry had thought this was simply Snape's typical teaching style. But now he was not so sure. Perhaps the professor didn't want to know him on a private basis. Was Harry such an intolerable person that nobody wanted to feel any emotional bond with him?

Except Midas of course. But even he held Harry at a distance sometimes. Harry had, for example, no idea of what Midas did professionally. He knew that he worked for Uncle Vernon, but not exactly what this work included, and why they even employed him when the Dursley's hated magic so much.

It had something to do with the death of his parents. Harry didn't even really know how they died. The Dursleys had told him that they died in a car crash, but Midas had told him a grueling story about a floo accident. Most of the times he was inclined to believe him, but overall he was not sure about it. When he was younger, he had sometimes spent hours trying to think up possible scenarios, one crazier than the next other. His parents had been murdered by a mad wizard who was now after him, and he was only safe on this property. He was in fact a prince, or a rich heir (of Merlin himself?), or otherwise a celebrity, and he was hidden from the world here, until he was old enough for the responsibility. However, his fondest fantasy was the one in which his parents were not dead, but somewhere searching for him. Or that they knew where he was, but could not approach him because it would put him in danger, but all the time they were watching secretly over him. Over such thoughts, he finally fell asleep.

* * *

Severus stood in the early morning cold before the apothecary in Diagon Alley. He wanted to have all his shopping done before the narrow street became swarming with babbling witches and inconsiderate wizards, and before irritating children got in his way. Unfortunately in his zeal to avoid the daily mob, he had arrived a little bit too early. The apothecary was still closed. So Severus Snape stood in the still deserted street and watched irritably how every breath formed a small steam cloud in front of his mouth.

Not that he froze. First he put great value on making sure that his clothing was appropriate (and hence warm enough) as well as suitably smart, and secondly the cold was an insignificant problem for a qualified wizard anyway, one that could be solved very easily with a simple spell in a matter of seconds. However, he hated to waste his time. And there was probably nothing more pointless that one could do with his time than waiting.

It was all Potter's fault, decided Severus. If it were not for the boy, then he would still be teaching at Hogwarts. There he wouldn't have to worry about most of his ingredients thanks to the help of Pomona and Hagrid. And the few that they could not get him, he could order without much problem from the master apothecary in Hogsmeade or by owl post, at the school's expense of course. And then he would not have to wait for this lazy shopkeeper to show up to take all his hard (very hard!) earned money.

While he was biding his time, he looked at the displays in the shop window, his thoughts still on Potter. What was the boy thinking? No one gave Severus something for Christmas. Well, nobody except the headmaster, however that old scatterbrain didn't count. His gift list was as least as long as his beard and every long-standing teacher of the faculty had a place on it.

Severus was well aware of how he affected his students. He was feared or hated, and mostly respected by the Slytherins but not really liked. He had received a gift from them once in a while, but those were always fairly crude bribery attempts.

Could it be? Was Potter attempting to bribe him? With a gift that he wrapped in a newspaper? No. If that was what it had been about, he would have surely bought something expensive and wrapped it much better. He could afford it.

Suddenly he discovered something that made him forget every thought of Potter. The owner of the store had appeared in the store and had just laid a dragon's liver in the shop window. Severus was very excited. Since dragons were under protection, this ingredient was very difficult to obtain. He made himself ready to slip into the store, as soon as the door opened.

"Protective amulets and good luck charms! Guaranteed effective!"

A street vendor obstructed his way by pushing herself with her vendor's tray between him and the shop door. Anger flashed on his face.

"Is it not a bit too early to be out harassing other wizards?" he asked her.

"The early Bowtruckle captures the lice. Can I perhaps interest you in an HP tuft? The finest hair, from the head of the Boy-Who-Lived, tied together with the finest magic threat. Guaranteed to protect you from someone trying to hex you in secret.

Severus made a face. He buying a piece of Harry Potter? Hardly! Even if he was sure that the hair was not genuine. There were so many of these supposedly 'real' HP tufts, that Potter would have had to been drinking nothing but hair growth drinks his entire life, to have been the source of all of it.

And one should think that wizards would know well enough that such amulets were ineffective. But the well thought out advertising campaigns of Midas Fox had triggered a true Harry Potter hysteria. People simply bought everything as long as it was a Harry Potter item. And because of it, a lot of 'businessmen' were jumping on the gravy train. As soon as the first idiot started to babble about the fact that these lucky charms had achieved a true miracle, the wizards would loose even the last bit of their anyhow insignificant minds.

Severus wanted to push the undesirable goods aside, but the street vendor was not about to be shaken off. To make matter worse he looked up to discover another potions master he knew well heading toward the steps of the apothecary in great strides. He would have preferred to cast a few well-placed cursed, but he stopped himself from doing it. As a former Death Eater it was always better, as far as possible, to avoid trouble. Moreover, it could cause a small riot, and so perhaps prevent him from entering the apothecary altogether.

Severus chose the path of least resistance. He picked up a trinket at random from the bottom of the vendor's tray, pressed some sickles into her hand and then pushed to hurry her along while she counted the silver. In a hurry he entered the drugstore and immediately asked for the sought after dragon liver. By the time his rival entered the store he was already paying for it and took the liberty of a small triumphant smile.

Now that he was in an extremely good mood he paused to look at what he had actually purchased from the vendor. It was a hinged medallion made of polished brass. When he looked inside he gasped when he saw the portrait in it. Lily Potter! He had bought Lily Potter's amulet.

Three years ago there had been a very successful campaign for magic furniture polish which went into a history of Lily Potter's sacrifice dripping with sentimentality (what one had to do with the other was beyond Severus's understanding). In one ad it said that she still watches over her son. Since then she had been considered more or less the patron of all children. Mothers bought their children amulets with her portrait, so she could watch over them if they were separated from them.

No longer in quite so good a mood, Severus stared at the lucky charm. He would have treasured the picture itself, but not with this dreadful "Lily _Potter_" script on it. What should he do with this…thing?


	17. A new Year, a new Beginning

_**Important note**: When I wrote this chapter of the German version of the story, it was before DH came out. I thought, I had been so clever not to specify Snape's relationship with Lily or his true allegiances, only to be thrown in a curve ball when I learned that he meet Petunia as a child. I always intended to change my story to integrate the new facts, but I never came around to do it. So when DracaDelirus made the translation, a lot of small details I did not like stayed in the story. I decided to integrate the changes on my own, which was no problem at all since they are mostly small things (like the fact that it is not the picture of Lily which Snape does not like but the script on it in the last chapter). But in this chapter, I had to change a lot more to let the conversation between Petunia and Severus fit into the canon. I don't have an English beta for Harry Potter, so it is possible that I made some small mistakes. They are all absolutely not the fault of the translator but the result of my editing. _

_Another change I made was adding the scene with the "Bleigießen" (pouring molten lead). It is a German New Year custom, which I thought would fit well into the wizard world, too. It works this way: Small chunks of lead (it is nowadays a mix of lead and tin actually, normally there are six chunks in one package) are melted and than poured into a bowl with cold water. The shapes the molten lead takes is used to determine what the year will bring (i.e. a bird with a nest means changes in the personal relationship, like marriage, getting a child or building a house, whereas a flying bird indicates something like "growing wings"). Normally you have to held the figurine against the light and interpret the shadow, but really, I think it is much more fun to interpret the figure itself, so I let it Harry do this way rather than the "right" way._

**

* * *

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Chapter 17: A new year, a new beginning

After Harry's lonely Christmas his New Year's Eve had actually been really happy. Wile the Dursleys gave a gigantic party Midas had visited him in his room. He had smuggled enchanted table fireworks into the main house which was certainly better than anything his relatives had ever had, and at midnight they had watched together through the window the gigantic fireworks that the Dursleys had ordered for their guests.

He also brought some small chunks of lead and showed Harry a custom he picked up on one of his travels: Bleigießen. They had much fun interpreting the figures which came out of the chunks. Midas had a knife and (decided after a lot of discussion) an island. Harry was not so happy about it, because the knife indicated some sort of separation and the island a travel. But Midas said that it could also mean changes in life and a time of vacation. He joked that perhaps he would have less work the coming year.

Harry had a pair of antlers (which meant some kind of success), a flower (which meant luck) and a four legged animal which may have been a dog (like he thought) or a wolf (like Midas insisted). Since they did not know a good interpretation for either shape, Midas insisted on giving Harry the last chunk. This time he got something which looked like a flying owl. Midas had laughed and said that Harry would understand the meaning in two days.

It had been a Special Day. One of the fun variety. When it was dark Midas ignited another firework in the garden (one of the magical variety) and harry had been allowed to fly on his Nimbus 2000 through the flying colors. He got burned slightly on the arm when he flew too close to one of the exploding projectiles, but he didn't mind. As long as he was zooming through the air, nothing else may any difference to him. And Midas had ointment immediately on hand, which healed the burns very quickly.

But now these happy hours seemed infinitely far away. Today, classes would start up again, and Harry was afraid. He had not forgotten Professor Snape's unfriendly reaction to his gift. Now he was afraid to face him. What if he was still furious?

Harry was already in a depressed mood when he entered the room ten minutes before the class was to begin. He wanted to make sure that he wasn't late that morning. He was shocked to find out that Snape was already standing at the teacher's desk. Was he already too late? Normally the professor was in the habit of menacingly entering the room with billowing robes, and starting to teach the second he entered. But no, Snape waved him in, but it was the more usual 'Why must I waste my time with you' look, not the more menacing 'How dare you keep me waiting' stare.

"Good morning, sir!" Harry finally said with an uncertain voice.

"We will see whether it becomes a good morning."

Harry was immediately much calmer. That was familiar. Snape always made a sarcastic remark when he greeted him. However Harry never forgot to greet him every morning anyway since otherwise he would get a lecture on politeness.

With uncertain steps he went to the teacher's desk in order to put him homework down, then he went to his place. But before he could sit down, he discovered something on his desk which clearly did not belong to him. A medallion, not very pretty, but not particularly ugly either. The Dursleys would have turned up their noses over the inferior material from which it was made, but Harry took it in his hand to take a closer look. Then he realized that Snape was still in the room, watching him.

"May I?" he asked nervously

"Certainly you may," Snape said sharply. "It belongs to you!"

Harry stared at him totally perplexed. Had he understood correctly? Did this mean that the medallion was a gift? From Snape? Did that mean the professor was no longer at him?

Snape pulled him from his stupor in his usual unfriendly way.

"Well, have a look into it!"

Looking into it? Oh yes, you could open the medallion. Inside was the picture of a red haired woman with green eyes. The same green eyes the stared back at him each morning from the mirror. _Lily Potter_ was written on it in small script letters. Involuntarily tears sprung to his eyes. A picture of his mother! Snape had given him a picture of his mother! Not ever Midas had ever given him such a beautiful gift. Up to this moment, he had not even known what she looked like.

He opened his mouth in order to thank Snape, but when he saw the dark look he gave him, he closed it again. It was obvious that his professor wished no thanks. So he just smiled and slipped the medallion around his neck before he slid into his seat.

* * *

Severus ordered his student to work on the next chapter from his Potions textbook and the sat down at his teacher's desk to examine the essay the boy had written. But he was not quite in the mood for it. He could still not believe what he had just done. He had given Potter a gift. He had given POTTER a GIFT!

It had been a logical step, after he had become in possession of the medallion. Once he had had time to think about it, he came to the conclusion that he had exactly three possibilities: either he kept the medallion (with absolutely nothing he could do with it), he could throw it away (which would be a waste, and Severus hated waste), or he could try to use it as a lure.

The idea to give the thing to Potter was an obvious one, but first he exiled it to the very back corner of his (perfectly trained) mind. But as much as he fought against this idea, it was something she would have given him herself. It was a good way to win the trust of the boy. And looking at Potter now as he bent over his books, his eyes still damp from the laboriously suppressed tears, he knew it had worked. Even better than expected. It was really hard to believe how emotionally the boy had reacted. One could almost believe that Potter had never in his whole life seen a picture of his mother.

In addition, it was more than just a gift. Severus had spent two hours putting a fairly complicated, yet quite unknown, and barely noticeable charm on the amulet. Now he would always be able to locate it anywhere. In this way he would be able to find out exactly where in the wing, which was at Potter's disposal, his bedroom was located, and where he was if he was not in class. He still had no idea what he would do with this knowledge, but from his point of view, too much information was better than not enough.

Particularly since there was precious little so far that he had been able to report to Dumbledore. He had had absolutely no opportunity to talk with the Dursleys. Who knows, if he was able to point out to them the torture that Potter had suffered from Oldridge, perhaps they could yet be persuaded to send Potter to Hogwarts.

Maybe he should simply intercept Petunia the next time he saw her. He had taught her nephew now for almost half a year, he could try to talk with her under the pretext that he wanted to discuss his scholastic progress.

Severus decided to put Potter's essay aside for now. It was frustrating every time to read his work anyway. Why had he brought so much red ink when he barely got the opportunity to use it? Instead, he pondered what he could say to Potter's aunt. Normally he only spoke with parents to point out to then the complete inability of their offspring. This time he would probably have to distribute some compliments. Certainly then she would be more inclined to rethink one or two subtle suggestions from him.

* * *

It was relatively easy to intercept Potter's aunt. Although her life existed, primarily, or parties and costly leisure activities, she still loved to stick to a schedule. And so Severus only had to stroll punctually at four o'clock on Thursday afternoon, over to the meadow, in order to coincidentally chance upon Petunia Dursley just returning from the tennis court.

"Petunia!" he called. "A pleasure to meat you again."

She looked at him with undisguised surprise. "Snape? Severus Snape? What are you doing here?"

Wasn't she aware that he had been engaged to teach Potter? Severus hoped that he did not make a mistake revealing himself to her.

"I am the teacher of your nephew. I am a Professor now."

He stressed his title easily. Still she looked at him as if he was an impertinent domestic servant. In view of her only moderately veiled dislike, Snape did not even attempt to shake hands with her. He did not want to begin the discussion with a humiliation.

"Mr. Snape!" she replied with the 'Mr.' stressed. "As far as I know you have been informed that all F… wizards are to stay away from the main house."

Severus registered the slip of the tongue, but could not reason it out. Certainly some sort of result. She had always labored a strong dislike for him. Adopting a pose to made it clear that he was not in the least intimidated by her he advised her that he was not even near the main house.

"But it is good that I met you. I had wanted to talk with you about Mr. Potter anyway."

"If he has done something, then please contact Mr. Fox."

Severus involuntarily raised his eyebrows. Potter's aunt seemed to regard the boy as a hooligan. Obviously he saved his manners for class.

"Up to now I have not seen any signs of obvious suboptimal behavior on his part. On the contrary, his test results are dominated by excellent grades."

Severus could read in Petunia face that she had not understood a word of what he had said. Ha! Take that, you haughty giraffe! Then maybe you would learn some respect for people who are more educated than you are! But it would be of no use to him to challenge her, so he changed his language to one which even the stupidest person (and she fell into this category, in any case) could understand.

"Your nephew is doing well in all of his subjects. He has a special talent for Defense against the Dark Arts. I have already started him on second year material. I am concerned, however, because of his achievement in Transfiguration."

"Is that so?" she squeezed out from between her pressed together lips. "Well, he is Lily's son."

Did he detect a hint of her old jealously? For a strange moment he felt some sort of companionship with her. Her whole life she had been crushed by the knowledge that Lily had the magic she desired, and he had spend his life hating James Potter, who got the women he desired, but both of them where now forced to protect the result of Lily's magic and her love to Potter. He, more than everyone else, did know how difficult it was to disregard the own feelings for the benefit of someone you hated.

But then he remembered how nasty she had been as a child, first towards him and later on towards sweet loving Lily. Did she regret today what she did to her sister? He did not care. Her regrets could not be greater than his, and living in luxury was not really some kind of redemption, even if an insufferable child was attached to the package.

"I am sure that by the end of the year he will have caught up. But I see some problems coming there too. While I certainly qualify to teach Potions and Defense up to the NEWT level and Herbology to the OWL level, in Transfiguration I am simply not an expert. At the latest, in one year Mr. Potter will need a better teacher, and if he gets a second Oldridge, there will be a disaster. Not to mention the fact that it will be time to add further subjects to his schedule."

Severus hated having to praise Potter to the sky, while his running down his own abilities so, but one did what one had to in order to achieve his goal. While he continued to speak, Petunia became more and more nervous. She looked around constantly and stepped worriedly from one restless leg to the other.

"Maybe you should still consider sending him off to school."

"Harry will not go to school!" shrieked Petunia Dursley. "It is not safe!"

Severus wanted to reassure her, and tell her that there were ways and means to protect Potter from Death Eaters in other places as well, but she did not permit it.

"If you want to keep your job, then you will kindly keep to the rules. Keep away from normal people, and if you have a problem, then you turn to Mr. Fox. He is responsible for that kind of thing. However, I hardly believe that he will consider such outlandish proposals. Good day!"

She turned away. Severus, who could not tolerate be left in such a way, pulled out his wand. He really wanted to send a curse at her neck, but then he would certainly be fired. Instead, he called at her retreating back: "Do you really want to leave the decisions about the welfare of you nephew to a stranger?"

However, she ignored him. Severus recovered his control with effort and put away the wand again, only with a plan in his mind to use it at the next opportunity to discreetly add some lice to her hair. Best, if he did it when she was once again planning one of her big parties.

It was frustrating. The aunt would not talk with him, and the uncle certainly would not help him either, so ultimately everything hinged on a single person: Midas Fox! It was he who Severus would have to outwit. Unfortunately, he had no idea how to do this.

_

* * *

_

A/n: So there it is the long awaited scene with Petunia. I suppose this time it may not quite be what you expected. I know, in most ffs the Dursley's tend to blab out how much they hate Harry more or less immediately. But I can simply not imagine that Petunia (or even Vernon) is so stupid that she would incriminate herself easily. Particularly as my Dursleys are somewhat used to contact with wizards and know what is on stake. Snape on the other hand is, for all his intelligence, quite narrow minded, especially concerning Harry. So no, he won't make the right deduction unless he sees the truth directly. (Frustrating, isn't it? His stubbornness is the main reason my ff ended up being double the length I planned it originally).


	18. A short interlude

**Chapter 18: A short interlude**

Albus Dumbledore sat in his place at the teacher's table in the great hall and observed. It was important to him that he knew as much about the goings in the school as it was possible to know. The portraits in his office were very helpful, but most lacked the necessary talent for observation and the ability to see the details in the right light.

If he relied only on the abilities of others, than he would probably have never learned of the dragon which Hagrid had hidden in his hut. Nobody else had noticed that the half-giant had new burns every third day. It had been difficult to persuade his gamekeeper that it was better to give up the dragon before it grew any bigger. Then he had to use his connections to move the dragon secretly to a reserve in Romania.

Hagrid's affinity for dangerous creatures had often led to problems. Albus was always torn between respect for Hagrid's skills and annoyance over his senselessness. This time Albus had to have a serious talk with him, because he did not want his gamekeeper to be arrested sometime, just because his heart was too big.

Accordingly, now the half-giant sat at the table in low spirits, completely the opposite of Minerva. She was in very good spirits, and rightly so. Although Gryffindor, for want of a gifted seeker, had virtually no chance at the Quidditch cup this season, they had won a tight victory against Hufflepuff, and that was only because their guards had allowed them goal after goal. This had cheered up Minerva a little, indeed, but it remained a fact that Slytherin was much too far ahead for them to catch up.

Filius had just reported to her how Hermione Granger had once again managed a transformation spell on her first attempt. Albus had to smile at her enthusiasm. Even if the impartial teacher would never admit this, with all fairness she also had her favorite students.

Filius nodded eagerly at regular intervals, "A Ravenclaw! She would have become an excellent Ravenclaw," he squeaked regretfully when his comment immediately brought a complacent look to Minerva's face.

Albus' gaze wandered over to the subject of their conversation. Hermione Granger sat at the Gryffindor table no longer separate from her year mates, as had been the case just a few weeks before, but between Ron Weasley and Neville Longbottom. The incident with the Troll turned out to be a stroke of luck for them. She was still labeled as a bookworm as she had been before, but not they also celebrated her as a heroine. She still had not really close friends, but at least she was accepted now as she was. Most of her time she spent with Neville, mostly to help him with his homework, and with Ron, who felt excluded at times by the close friendship between Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas.

A few places further down the Weasley twins had just put their heads together. They were probably planning another good prank. Well, he would just let himself be surprised. He was more worried about the plans being drawn up between Draco Malfoy and his two bodyguards at the Slytherin table. Plans from this direction mostly ended in unpleasant events. And the school year had seen enough of those already.

And he didn't mean the fact that every day at least one student ended up in the hospital wing. The replacement for Severus was an excellent potions mistress, but it was a difficult class to control. Since she had taken over the post, the number of accidents in this class had increased tenfold. Luckily she was at least competent enough to keep away her pupils from the really dangerous potions.

The strange events at the school had him concerned. It was not only the matter with the troll. Hagrid had reported that unicorns were being killed. This had led him to talk with Firenze from whom he learned there had been dark signs. Everything pointed to Voldemort, and it didn't need a genius to figure out what he was after. Albus would be much more comfortable when Nicholas would finally agree to destroy the stone.

Perhaps it was good that that Harry Potter was still with his relatives. At least there he was protected from the attacks. If Albus could only trust the Dursleys. When Minerva had warned him years ago against entrusting them with Harry, he had doubted his decision. Only for one brief instant, but he had doubted. If the blood protection had not been so important, he would have taken the boy back. However, in the end there was still Arabella who could keep an eye on things.

None of her reports had been particularly reassuring. The Dursleys did only for Harry what they had to, but not a bit more. Their own son was spoiled without limit. The best was just not good enough for him, while for their nephew even the smallest expenditure was too expensive. And then the diaper advertisement had appeared.

Dumbledore didn't have to be a Legilimens to recognize that perhaps Midas Fox acted in the interest of the Dursleys, but certainly not in Harry's best interest. He was not concerned about the welfare of the child, but in lucrative advertising contracts. Even if the ministry had a different opinion.

The memories that Severus had shown him only confirmed his assessment. Sure, Harry seemed to have everything, whatever his heart desired. But it was obvious that the Dursleys used his money to finance their lifestyle. Albus was glad that he had succeeded in protecting Harry's vault in Gringotts against their access. Even if the gold was never used for his education, at least Harry's legacy would be preserved.

All in all, it seemed to be going well for Harry. The property was well protected, Oldridge no longer could do anything to him, there was no sign that the Dursleys were ill-treating him, and Midas seemed to spend a lot of time with him.

And yet…

For Harry the blood of his mother was a better protection that anything that Hogwarts could offer. In particular, as long as the Philosopher's Stone was hidden inside, and he himself came to the conclusion more and more that someone in the castle was in the service of Voldemort.

And yet…

He should not be so concerned about the boy, especially not now, when Severus was keeping an eye on him.

And yet…

_(Note: I know, short chapter and little action. But there will be more in the next one, I promise!)_


	19. Easter

**Chapter 19: Easter**

"I know that you had something to do with it, you freak!" shrieked Aunt Petunia. Harry stared at the ground trying hard to hide his grin. But it was just too funny. Ironic that something like this had happened to his finicky aunt.

"You probably find this amusing, don't you? To show me up in front of my friends! I will never be able to show my face again!"

Well at least not without having to listen to all kinds of ridicule. Harry did not know _exactly_ what had happened. Contrary to what his aunt believed he hadn't had the slightest thing to do with it, and in addition, when it had happened he had been sitting in the classroom. But from what he could make out from his aunt's insults, it must have been quite a funny sight.

To welcome Dudley home for the Easter Holiday, Aunt Petunia had thrown a large society party. Harry did not believe that his cousin really liked these afternoon parties being paraded before the gaggle. But his aunt loved presenting her Diddledums (and herself) at every opportunity. So she had even bought the best from the best. A special eye-catcher was a big bowl that was sitting separately from the rest of the buffet on a small table. It was filled with the most expensive caviar for the guests.

Everything had gone in the usual manner, which meant that Dudley probably had immediately headed for the buffet at the beginning of the celebration and stayed there, while Uncle Vernon launched into a long-winded dishonest speech about his son's successes, and Aunt Petunia had flitted from one group to the next spreading the latest gossip.

Then the countess Eleonora Snobnose had appeared. She was the wife of the chairman of the local Country Club and was regarded as the unofficial spokeswoman of the female members. It was only rarely that she had crossed the threshold of the Dursley's property, as she regarded them as nouveau riche and vulgar. The only reason why she dealt with them at all was the fact that the size of their fortune had earned attention even among the richest of the rich.

Aunt Petunia measured the success of her parties, firstly by the quality of her guests (quality in the sense of social status), and secondly on how well they were amused. The best that could happen was that Eleonora Snobnose would honor her with her presence and then later tell about how pleasantly she had spent the evening.

Therefore Petunia had of course immediately rushed to greet her and then had done her best to impress the snooty lady. For such an opportunity, a month ago she had bought a painting at auction, a genuine Ailster. The countess was a great admirer of this still relatively unknown painter, and it was the only reason why she had appeared at all at such an insignificant party.

Harry found the painting pretty boring. On a white background the artist had painted silhouettes of different dog breeds. The white shades had been painted so cleverly that the dogs seemed to move if you changed your point of view of the painting. The effect was quite interesting, but all in all, Harry found the subject to sterile to really like it.

It had probably pleased the countess extraordinarily well. With delight, she had extolled the virtues of the work, and Petunia had basked complacently in her admiration (and her envy).

But then Harry's aunt suddenly felt her head begin to itch. She would have like nothing better than to scratch, but she simply could not interrupt the conversation. Finally, she touched her head under the pretext she needed to straighten her new diadem. Eleonora Snobnose promptly bent forward to look closer at the jewels, and then she suddenly let out a shriek.

"Oh my dear, you have lice!"

All of a sudden all eyes were on Petunia, who had gone completely red, while she desperately searched for an explanation. There was none. As it turned out she never even got the chance to try and explain, because at this moment on of the female guests awoke from her stupor. She had a phobia of insects and was unfortunately standing directly behind Petunia. As it became clear what she had just heard, she screeched and stepped back, turning in her haste she stumbled and tried to support herself on the edge of the small table that swayed and toppled over. Thus the bowl of caviar was catapulted into the air and it's contest dumped half over the countess, and the other half over the painting. As Petunia had dragged him through the hall earlier, Harry had caught at look at where the caviar had landed. Now all the dogs looked like Dalmatians, but Harry like the painting much better this way.

Eleonora Snobnose swept out deeply offended (whether because of her ruined dress or, the desecration of the work of art she had highly praised, is a moot point). Helpless Aunt Petunia had to watch as afterwards her other guests also hurried off without saying goodbye (since nobody wanted to catch her lice), and then heard laughter rising from their cars.

The party was ruined. Her reputation was ruined. And Aunt Petunia believed she knew who was responsible for it. She would have never gotten lice the natural way. So magic had to be to blame.

And so she had intercepted Harry, who had returned to the main house approximately the same time as the first guests drove off, and dragged him into Uncle Vernon's study, the only place on the ground floor, where the servants weren't busy cleaning up. Harry had been completely surprised, but it didn't last long, before long he knew what had happened.

And likewise didn't take long (although in the meantime Harry's aunt clamored in his ears until they roared), until Uncle Vernon joined them.

"The last guests are gone," he announced, his gaze falling on Harry and his eyes contracting into two slits.

"Now, freak! I think it is high time that I taught you some manners."

He came on fast that Harry automatically backed against the wall as far as possible. Any grin had disappeared from his face. This was not good. This was not good at all. He had never seen his uncle so furious, not since the day he had tried to run away.

Vernon brutally grabbed him by the arm and shook him thoroughly.

"I should beat you black and blue! I will teach you to disgrace us. To contaminate us with your abnormality!"

Harry thrashed more and more violently trying to escape from Vernon's clutches, but could not break the iron grip on his arm. Suddenly a force pulsated through Harry's body which made it impossible for his uncle to hold on to him any further. He let go of his victim and jumped back with a surprised outcry.

"I will show you, you freak!"

Once again he approached his nephew. With wide frightened eyes Harry followed his uncles' fist as he drew it back to hit him. A blow from this meaty hand would certainly knock his head off his shoulders.

"I would not do that, Mr. Dursley!"

Harry had not seen him come in, but he was very relieved when Midas appeared behind Uncle Vernon. The blow stopped in the motion. The vein in Uncle Vernon's forehead continued to pulse with rage, but apparently the presence of the wizard was sufficient enough make him keep himself under control, at least for the moment.

"And why not?" he asked in a tone that made it clear that Midas had better had at least one good reason for interfering in Vernon Dursley's family affairs.

"Tomorrow is a Special Day. You know this is a particularly important one. And anyway you still want to buy a new sports car."

Harry did not understand what a sports car had to do with his Special Day, but the argument seemed to work. The hand lowered, but then shot up again to grab him roughly by the arm one more time.

"This incident is far from over," he hissed, his face so close to Harry that small saliva droplets sprayed on his glasses. "Tomorrow night we will finish our talk!" with that he pushed Harry in Midas' direction. He nodded to Vernon and then pushed the boy hastily from the study.

"Is everything okay with you?" he asked, once they were out of earshot.

Harry rubbed his sore arm.

"It could have been worse. Thanks!"

Harry could hardly see anything through the drops of saliva so he stopped to clean his glasses on the edge of his robe.

"You would be better off if you hurried to your room. I don't think it would be a good idea, if your uncle laid eyes on you again today," advised Midas.

Harry nodded thoughtfully.

"Midas? Why did Uncle Vernon let me go? Surely, not just because of my Special Day?"

"Not really. I promised him that I would procure him a fairly expensive sports car from an acquaintance at much better price. If he had not let you go, I would have withdrawn my promise."

"But what does that have to do with the Special Day?"

Midas smiled.

"Actually nothing! I had to give him a reason why I intervened in your punishment, and that was the best thing I could think of on the spur of the moment. If I had simply ordered him to let you go, then out of sheer stubbornness he certainly would not have done so. That is why instead I asked for a postponement. By tomorrow evening hopefully he will have calmed down again."

It was something, but not much. Still, it was good that the underserved punishment was postponed. Uncle Vernon had been so angry, that Harry would not have been surprised if this time he had not been able to stop himself. Sure, Uncle Vernon had often treated him harshly, even once he spanked him, but he had never beaten him.

Harry put on his glasses again and looked at Midas.

"I am so glad you are here." Harry did not know what led him at that moment, to speak so openly. He had gotten into the habit since he was a young age of keeping his feelings to himself, so as to not offer the Dursley's a way to attack him. Perhaps simply, he was still frightened by Vernon's recent treat of violence. Perhaps simply, he just wanted to delay Midas just a little while longer because he did not want to be alone. "You're the only friend that I have here."

Harry put Midas's somewhat pained expression down to his uneasiness about his unexpected openness. The older wizard was also not exactly a person who was in the habit or revealing his emotional life. But then he ruffled Harry's hair affectionately, and the uneasy mood vanished.

"What about I go up with you, and personally put you to bed?"

Harry beamed. He was really lucky he had Midas.

* * *

_A/n: Okay, in the last chapters you could see my attemps at writing humor...pityful, I know! I think, I will have to stick with drama that is much easier to write. By the way, the ff will have 27 chapters plus epilogue overall...I am not sure I will have the end ready when I post chapter 26 (well, I am pretty sure that the German version will be written, but first I will have to send it to my German beta and then to the translator.) but I promise, it won't end in a big cliffhanger. Until then I will stick with my daily updates...I think you all will prefer it to the alternative (which would be that I post one chapter a week to make sure that you can get the story in a regular rythm). _


	20. A bath in multicolored bubbles

**Chapter 20: A bath in multicolored bubbles****  
**

In the course of his life Harry had taken part in dozens of Special Days. Some, such as the one a few months ago, when I had been allowed to sit on a broom for the very first time, had been very fun. Some had been very unpleasant. But Harry had never understood what made some of them good and others bad. It did not seem to make a difference in how he behaved in advance, so they must not have been meant as a reward or punishment.

Once he had asked Midas about them. But this had been one of the few occasions when he hadn't gotten a clear answer. Instead he was fed the "you're still too young to understand" line. Another time, he was just told that was the way it was.

So at some point Harry had resigned himself that this was probably just another example of how the wizards lived, like wearing old-fashioned robes, and eating revolting tasting jelly beans. And Special Days were just like these jelly beans: you never knew what you would get.

Harry was still quite tired, when he slipped into the guesthouse in the early morning hours. He had not slept well the night before, but it was not just his usual nervousness he always had before these days. This time it was also because of the inevitable punishment he was expected was waiting for him at the end of the day.

Midas had told him that he should go into the play room. Harry could not remember when he had entered that special place in the guesthouse for the very first time. Originally, it had been like a child's room, decorated with light blue dragons on the walls that chased each other and discharged the occasional flame, and furnished with a colorful child's bed. Two years ago, it had been completely redecorated. Now the walls were painted a bright yellow, and a four-poster bed with dark blue curtains took up almost the entire back wall. The only thing the same were the vast amounts of wizard toys which were arranged in well thought-out chaos around the room. Harry almost never got to play in it. Sometimes he received permission to on a Special Day, but in general the room was off limits to him.

When Harry stepped into the room, Midas was just in the process of filling a big tub, which had been set up near the wall, with a gush of water from his wand. The boy threw a hopeful glance to the Nimbus 2000, which leaned in the corner. However it was evident to him that today it would stay there.

"Good morning, Harry!" Midas greeted him. "How are you doing?"

"Good morning! Uh… What is that supposed to be?"

"Well it is what it looks like. It's a warm proper bath."

Harry could already imagine what this was going to turn out to be. And he did not like it at all.

"I have already taken a shower today," under the cold jet, because the Dursleys had turned off the warm water in his wing.

"So?" Midas wiped his objection aside, "Come on, you will certainly have fun."

In the meantime the bath filled, and then the older wizard pulled out a glass bottle with a bubbling liquid and poured a generous amount into the bath water. Immediately colorful bubbles started to form in the tub, baby pink, light blue, mint green, lilac, and pale yellow. Harry looked at the colorful combination with a sideways glance.

"You're not serious about this, are you?"

But Harry knew that he was. And he also knew that it wouldn't do him any good to protest against any thing that he was asked to do in this room. It would get back to his uncle who would only intervene again, and things would become extremely uncomfortable for him.

So he just let out a loud sigh, clearly expressing his displeasure before he undressed. When Midas started moving around some of the things around the tub, Harry took the opportunity to slip the medallion from underneath his shirt that he wore around his neck, and hid it under some of the stuffed animals lying about. He knew that the Dursleys would never allow him to keep it, so he was always careful to hide it, even from Midas. He did not believe that Midas would betray him, but he was not completely certain, after all his friend was one of Uncle Vernon's employees. The medallion was Harry's most valuable possession. He wouldn't risk losing it under any circumstance.

Harry hastily rid himself of his remaining clothes, only with his underpants he hesitated. Sure, Midas was his friend, but that didn't mean he was completely comfortable standing nude before him, at least not in such a situation, which didn't include either a sauna or a changing room.

"You can keep them on," Midas said quietly in view of his obvious discomfort.

It seemed strange to Harry to get into the bathtub in underpants, but it was better than the alternative, so he slid into the pleasantly warm water without further discussion. He only hoped that he wouldn't have to stay in it too long.

Midas had cast a warming spell five times on the bath water, before he finally permitted Harry to rise from the tub. It was a long time to Harry. Whatever Midas had added to the bath water, exuded a very sweetish smell that tickled his nose, and had made him sneeze more than once.

Even if the bath water had been warm, as soon as the cool air hit Harry's wet body when he got out, he began to shiver. Thankfully he accepted a bath towel from Midas. The terry-cloth felt strange between his shriveled finger tips, still he rubbed himself quickly, while Midas said a drying spell on his soaked underpants. The material became somewhat stiff, but that didn't make a difference to Harry. He was only glad to finally be dry again.

His joy did not last long. Midas let him have a bread roll and some hot tea, and then told him to get back into the bath tub. But this time he was not alone in the bath. Disgruntled he looked at the rubber-kelpie, bobbing around in the water.

Harry felt he was really too old for this kind of toy. But he protested to no avail. Midas insisted that he get back into the tub and play with the rubber-kelpie. Harry obeyed, but he certainly did it without enthusiasm. Indignantly he pressed the rubber body of the toy and it immediately made a squeaky noise, dived, and underwater changed its form and emerged again in a new shape. First it looked like a green snake, and now it was a horse, whose tail and mane was made of dark algae. Harry pressed it again and it changed into a being similar to a dinosaur.

Midas withdrew to the other side of the room and watched it from there.

"Come on, show a little more enthusiasm!"

Unwillingly, Harry made the face. He just felt ridiculous in the kitschy bubbles. He was just glad, that except for Midas, nobody could see.

"Sorry, but I'm not kindergarten age any more. Not even Dudley would want to play with such a thing.

"A little more respect, boy. After all, I am the one who invented this toy."

"Really?"

Midas nodded, and then he started to tell a rather long and quite amusing story about how he had discovered the rubber duck in a muggle toy store, and then had come to develop an appropriate equivalent for wizards.

"When I tested the prototype, pretty much everything went wrong. I pressed the rubber body and the thing sprayed me from top to bottom with a smelly green liquid. Then it dived into its bucket and completely dissolved into its components, which had the consequence of transforming the water into a kind of acid which ate, not only through the table, but into the floor below. Believe me, it was extremely difficult to explain to the tenant under me why she had a hole in her ceiling."

Harry had to laugh at the image of Midas standing there covered in green liquid being insulted by his neighbor. Still he was glad when he finally left the bath water and was allowed to dry himself and slip back on his clothes. Meanwhile Midas cleaned the bathtub with a quick magic spell.

"By the way, you won't have lessons with me for the next days. I must do some things for your uncle."

Harry only nodded. He didn't feel up to it anyway, he was so exhausted, although it was not yet evening and he had nothing all day other than sit in the bathtub. Nevertheless, as soon as Midas told him that he could go, he dragged himself to his room. But fatigue or not, he didn't want the sweet smell of the bath product left on his skin. So he allowed himself a quick shower before he let himself fall into his bed.

* * *

Severus Snape had used the day to go to Diagon Alley to buy a few things. Then he had treated himself to an extensive meal at the Leaky Cauldron, before he made his way back to the property. Afterward he withdrew to the cellar to brew some potions. As much as he was annoyed about the fact that Potter was exempted from lessons for something as trivial as promotional photos for some superfluous product, he nevertheless enjoyed being able to work again in peace. Four hours he was completely immersed in the world of bubbling cauldrons and slowly rising fumes.

When he finally returned to his apartment, it was already dark. The lights in both the main house, as well as the guesthouse, had already been extinguished. Except for himself, no one else seemed to be awake.

By habit he cast a detection charm, to activate the charm he had placed on Potter's amulet, before he laid down to sleep. But the results prompted him to put back on his robe. If his magic was working properly (and his magic never failed), then Potter was somewhere in the guesthouse, instead of lying his bed where he belonged.

The boy must be cooking up a stupid prank. Why else would he be sneaking around the area at night? Full of anticipation of making Potter pay for his little escapade, he used his wand as a light source and followed the detection charm to a part of the guesthouse which he had never seen before. Briefly he listed at the door, behind which he assumed he would find his victim. He heard nothing! No quiet rustle! No creeping steps! If he did not know better, he would that that the room was empty.

Resolve to keep the element of surprise, he tore open the door in one sudden movement and illuminated the room at the same time with a wordless "Lumos Maxiums", the light on his wand going to the extreme.

The room before him was bathed in a bright light. Severus recognized the room at first sight, as the room jam packed with toys, which he had so often seen in advertising photos.

Since Severus did not find anyone, he turned on the light in the room and terminated his lumos spell. He looked around. Yes, this was Potter's alleged bedroom, with not doubt. He gaze wandered past the empty bed to the bathtub, looking quite misplaced amid all the toys. He opened the wardrobe and found that it was empty. Not that that surprised him. It was evident to him, that in real life the toys had never been played with properly. Most of the things looked as if they had just been brought from the shop.

Severus aimed an unveiling spell on the wall behind the bathtub, and found out that this was actually a window well camouflaged by spells. Behind it there was a small room from which one could look freely into the bedroom. Severus was not particularly surprised. If you look at the angle of the advertising shots, the photographer must have photographed from behind the wall.

This explained of course, why Potter always seemed so natural in the pictures. Of course it would be much easier to be relaxed if the camera wasn't right in front of his nose. Obviously Potter was not as talented as he thought if the photographer had to take the photos from so far away.

But why had the detection charm let him here? Severus followed it once more and finally discovered Potter's amulet among the stuffed animals. The brat must have forgotten it there during today's photograph session. That was again typical of the undisciplined boy to simply throw the amulet on the ground instead of taking care of it properly.

Shaking his head, Severus looked around. Potter apparently had no interest in all the toys. The only conclusion he could draw was that the spoiled brat must have even nicer things in his own room. Darkly Severus stared at the amulet. It was obviously not good enough for Potter, or he wouldn't have left it lie around so thoughtlessly. And even if it had not exactly been a present, he was still angry that his student put such little value on it.

Severus pocketed the piece of jewelry, extinguished the light, and left the room. His nice day had just been ruined. And if it was up to him, Potter would have to pay the price for it during tomorrow's lessons. His revenge would be sweet. Severus would make sure of it!

* * *

a_/n: There was a review concerning Midas which I thought quite puzzling. Since it was not signed and I did not want to write a long boring note here, I put a long explanation concerning the names of my OC's into my profile. If anybody is interested (does anybody reads my notes at all?) he can have a look there. _


	21. Apparances

**Chapter 21: Apparences…**

Harry awoke the next morning with a throbbing headache. His limbs felt unusually stiff as he rolled cumbersomely out of bed. Clumsily he traipsed to the bathroom where he splashed a little cold water on his face.

Had he caught cold from being in the bathtub so long? His throat didn't feel scratchy, and his nose wasn't stopped up. Probably he was simply exhausted. However, Snape certainly wouldn't be happy about it.

Harry felt for his medallion to give him courage for the day. It had become a habit, that every time he was facing a problem he would gain strength by clasping it firmly and thinking about his mother watching over him. This time his fingers found nothing. He did not have on the chain.

Suddenly, he was wide awake. He remembered that the day before he had taken the medallion off and hidden form Midas' sight. However he could not remember having retrieved it from its hiding place. It had to still be in the playroom.

Harry knew that he unless it was a Special Day he couldn't go there. But that made no difference to him. He had to get back the medallion! As he quickly dressed, his gaze fell on his watch, a gift from Midas. Startled, he noted that he had less than five minutes before class would begin.

He hurried to the guesthouse where he immediately rushed to the room where he had left the medallion. He might still have time. As fast as he could he moved in the direction of the playroom.

He haste was also the reason why he did not take the necessary precautions. So he didn't notice Oldridge until he grabbed him from behind, just as he started to push open the door to the playroom.

"Who do we have here? Possibly someone who wants to sneak around where he should not be?"

Harry tried to break loose, but Oldridge's clutch was a firm as an iron brace.

"Let me go! You're not supposed to talk to me anymore! You're not supposed to be near me!"

Harry did not know where he got the courage from to rebel against his torturer. Perhaps his desire for the medallion was simply greater than his fear.

Oldridge pushed him from himself.

"If I report to your uncle that you have been hanging around here, even Midas Fox will not be able to help you."

Harry rubbed his aching arms. He knew only too well that Oldridge was right. For now, he just had to get away.

"I… I have to go to class," he said, stepping back slowly, and then he turned around and ran away. Behind him he could hear Oldridge laughing mockingly.

Harry had assumed up to now that Professor Snape was always basically in a bad mood. Now he found out the he had never experience a really bad mood. Professor Snape was normally a very strict teacher, who never praised and gladly made biting comments. On this day, he was a nightmare. As soon as Harry entered the room, he got a ten minute talk on the fact that he had not come to class with clean fingers. But he really could not explain himself the slightly orange discoloration around the edges of his nails.

But that was only the beginning. In the course of the morning Professor Snape openly criticized Harry's appearance, his lack of humility and supposed laziness up to a point where even Harry (who had learned over the years with his experience with Vernon, Dudley, and especially Oldridge, that in the long term to accept such things tacitly) would have jumped down his throat. The only reason why he did not do it were the headaches, which became worse minute by minute, the burning in his eyes, and the itching feeling on his skin.

Harry did not feel in the position to go on a confrontation course with his teacher. He didn't feel there was anything he could do about the situation anyway. When it finally came time for lunch, he hotfooted it to his room and went back to bed. Torment from headache, his lost medallion, and concern over what he had done to annoy Professor Snape, caused him to fall into a restless sleep.

* * *

Harry was woken up by the fact that someone seized him by the arm and dragged him out of bed. He screamed with fright and automatically defended himself against the iron-hand clutch. Someone shouted at him in his ear, but it took awhile before the words penetrated into his still half asleep mind.

"I said, look at me!"

Harry directed his gaze to his uncle's face which was red with rage. Since he did not have his glasses on, the sight was blurry. However Harry didn't need a sharp view to know that he was in big trouble.

As soon as Vernon Dursley was sure that he had the full attention of his nephew, he bent menacingly over him.

"Oldridge told me where you were sneaking around this morning. I knew it was a mistake to let you get away with the caviar incident so easily. But not this time!"

He gave Harry a violent push which made him fall back onto the bed. He pushed him so hard that his head smacked against the wall.

"For the next three days you will remain in here. No hanging around in the garden and no lessons where nothing but nonsense is put into your head. If I hear even a cough, then I swear to you, you will live to regret it."

He slammed the door behind him and locked it twice. Then he pushed the bolt shut.

This sound was very familiar to Harry. It was not the first time that his relative had punished him by locking him up. But he also knew that those three days were only an approximate time. Once he had spent four days instead of the three they had said, another time he had been let out after two, completely unexpectedly, and that time he even had a nice special day to experience.

Harry never knew which part of this specific punishment was worse: the uncertainty, the isolation, or the tormenting hunger, which could not be satisfied with just water from the bathroom tap. Well for the moment the uncertainty was making him the most nervous. He didn't have an appetite anyway, and he only longed for nothing so much as a little rest. But what if he was sick? He felt bad enough for it. Midas was not there to help him, and Snape for some obscure reason was furious with him. He was absolutely alone.

* * *

Severus stood in the cellar at the table and crushed the midnight juniper blossoms with violent movements. For a long time he had pressed the black leaves until he had enough of the reddish juice to be able to brew a potent healing potion for nettle blisters, however he continued to pound. It was something of a satisfaction to be able to vent his fury on the defenseless leaves.

Severus had no been deceived for a moment by Oldridge. Indeed, it might have really been possible that is was the uncle, who on the grounds of health reasons, had excused Harry from lessons for several days, however Severus was sure that in reality the spoilt brat had contrived the whole thing. Probably he had whined over a headache or a torn hangnail, and his relatives had immediately jumped on it. The fact that his student had escaped from him in this manner irritated Severus immensely.

But Severus had to concede one thing to him: he was really a convincing actor. Even during the lessons Potter had constantly been rubbing his forehead as if he was suffering in pain. He almost even had him convinced that he might be ill, but Severus had seen how persuading Potter could be on the advertising posters.

Severus' hand slipped off the pestle. He fingers tips brushed the undiluted juice and changed to an orange color. What next? He could not get the stuff off with normal soap. He would have to brew a suitable potion to remove the traces. And best do it immediately. It would not be right to have Potter see him with orange hands when he had just reprimanded him because of the same thing.

Severus wondered how Potter had done it, to just tint the very edges of his nails orange. His fingertips were completely clean. The only reason for the discoloration to look like that was –

Severus stopped his work. An allergic reaction to the essence of midnight juniper blossoms. Such a thing was quite rare. Although the essence was a component in nearly all magical cleansing products, this allergy was diagnosed very seldom because the wizard had to be exposed to the essence over a long period of time in order to show a reaction. The consequences however were devastating. Along with the discoloration of the nail edges, would also come severe headaches, itching skin and mild fever, symptoms that were quite often dismissed as not being very threatening. The antidote was a simple anti-allergy potion, but if it was not given in time, the fever would sudden rise and kill the patient within one hour.

Suddenly Severus was not so sure that Potter had been faking. And if he were actually ill, then at the moment there was no one on the property tat would recognize the illness for what it was. The muggles would be ignorant, Midas Fox was not there, and Oldridge's incompetence was only exceeded by his malice. Severus snatched up the anti-allergy potion and was on the way.

But then he stopped short. There was no reason to fret. Normally the allergic reaction would run his course for a few days until it became life threatening. It was already late and he was tired…and perhaps he was not even right about his diagnosis. He should wait until the morning.


	22. and truth

**Chapter 22: … and thruth**

Serverus cursed himself. Why, oh why, couldn't he simple stay in his bed? What had compelled him to look after Potter after all? He really should have waited until the morning. But there was the nagging feeling that he should go immediately, this little voice who did not allow him to sleep. _You do not know how long Potter was exposed to the essence of midnight juniper flower. He may fight for his life this very moment. _In the end, he had given up and decided to check on Potter.

Fortunately, Severus had a rough idea of where he was. The amulet had indicated every night for weeks that the east wing was Potter's place of residence. Besides, that wing of the house was covered with camouflage spells. Neither the employees nor the Dursley's guests seemed to perceive that the east wing even existed.

Severus had to shake his head as such idiocy. A complete residential wing for a single child. Potter was not just spoiled, he was… well, he would probably have to invent a new word for it.

But in a way the wasteful extravagance of the Dursley's was good right now. The east wing had its own entrance in the direction that the guesthouse was located. It was be easy for Severus to get to Potter unseen. The protective charms represented the only real problem, but Severus bet on the fact that most of them were laid around the entire property, and the east wing had only a few additional safeguards.

Still he spoke a diagnostic spell at the door. A glowing light indicating two spells. Nothing really threatening only a charm that would give off an alarm when an unauthorized person ventured through the door, and one securing the lock against simple unlocking charms such as Alohomora. It cost Severus a little time, but he succeeding in breaking through both charms and in entering the east wing.

As he closed the door behind himself he whispered: "Lumos!" The point of his wand lit up and Severus could catch a look at his surroundings. He was not impressed. From outside, the mansion was very well maintained and impressive, however, the foyer in which he now stood was bare and dilapidated. No furniture, no pictures, no carpets, and one of the tiles of the tiled floor on which he stood was broken.

A little uncertain whether he was really right, Severus turned to the stairs. Arriving on the first floor, Severus only had to take one glance around before he started looking for the access to the attic. Shaking his head he walked through the empty, slightly drafty rooms. If the windows on the ground floor had not been so thoroughly clean, he would have thought that he was in a ruin.

Growing more and more inpatient, Severus searched the rooms until he finally noticed a wallpapered door, which when opened revealed a staircase. The wooden steps creaked as he started up them, making Severus wince involuntarily. Then he shook his head again. The only one he (maybe) would find here was Potter.

The stairs ended in a locked door. Obviously he was wrong. Potter probably had a secret hiding place somewhere here where he had been putting the amulet in the evening. How could he find out now where the brat really slept? The usual location charms would not function with all the protection spells around the house. Angry, Severus turned away.

A noise made him pause. Groaning! He turned around and took another look at the door. It couldn't hurt to take at least one glance into the room. Severus shot back the bolt and pushed open the door.

He was not sure what he had expected to find, but certainly not this. The room was a dilapidated as the rest of the wing. The few pieces of furniture looked as if they had been bought at least fourth hand. On a bed, whose mattress between large gaps in the rusty slats, laid Potter.

He was obviously sick. His breathing was very heavy and his body as emitting a soft glow in the dark, a clear sign of a magical disease. Severus had no time to lose. In seconds, he was at the boy's side. He took one last look at his fingernails to confirm his original diagnosis, and he then forced Potter's mouth open and made him take the antidote.

Fortunately it was very fast-acting. After a minute Severus could hear how Harry's breathing had calmed. He felt his forehead. It was still hot, but it was no longer the raging temperature that had previously dominated the thin body. This was a fever, from which there would be inevitable recovery.

But Harry was certainly dehydrated. Severus needed water for the boy however he didn't dare to use any more magic. He looked around. The room was like a prison cell, and there certainly wasn't anywhere where Harry could relieve himself. Then he spotted another door, right beside the one he had come in. A look behind it confirmed his suspicion, a small bathroom with a shower, toilet, and a sink over which a hinged mirror hung. Opening it, Severus seized the dental mug (made of cheap plastic) and filled it with water. Then he moistened a washcloth. So equipped he returned to the bed.

The following hours consisted mainly of waiting. Severus gave Harry water at regular intervals and wiped the sweat from his forehead. The boy opened his eyes several times however his gaze was so glassy that Severus was convinced that Harry had not yet woken up properly.

It was almost dawn when Harry first became aware of his surroundings. From very unfocused eyes he looked up. "Midas?" Then he seemed to realize that the shape above him did not have red hair. "Who…?" Severus was easily amused by his obvious confusion. "Everything is alright, Mr. Potter. You will recover again."

"Professor Snape?" Harry sat up and felt for his glasses. Wordlessly Severus handed them to him. Harry put on the glasses and stared at him as if he could not really believe he was there.

"What are you doing here?"

Severus pulled up an eyebrow.

"From the looks of it, I was saving your life. You had an allergic reaction to the essence of midnight juniper blossoms. It was necessary that I give you an antidote."

"Midnight juniper blossoms?"

"Midnight juniper blossoms," confirmed Severus. "I suppose it is too much to ask that you know about the characteristics of this particular ingredient."

Harry frowned.

"Midnight juniper blossoms are highly toxic when they are eaten whole, but if one crushes them and…" Potter hesitated, "…properly prepares them, then their essence is very useful in all sorts of cleaning products. And completely non-toxic." Questioningly he looked at Severus.

Given the fact that his (sick!) student had a general knowledge of an ingredient that was not used until the third school year, Severus generously over looked the fact that he had not also explained the method used to produce the essence.

"A simplified explanation, but fundamentally correct. Most wizards could swim in undiluted midnight juniper blossom essence, and it would not bother them in the least. But a few – a group to which you obviously belong – show an allergic reaction if they are exposed to the material over a long period. Such cases are only very rarely documented, as most wizards are usually not stupid enough to roll for hours in cleaning agents."

"It was not my idea!" the boy defended himself. "It was Midas that made me bathe for so long."

Ah… of course. That was why there was a bathtub in the phony playroom. Obviously Potter was going to promote one of those pointless bath products next.

"Well then, I hope that the photos were worth it. They nearly cost you your life."

"What photos?"

Severus wanted to respond, but then the implication of Potter's words became clear to him. The boy had no idea. He did not know what the true purpose of the bath had been. Which raised the question, what else did he not know?

"Did Mr. Fox explain to you why he had you sit in the tub?"

Potter shrugged.

"No… it was just a Special Day."

"Special Day?"

Now Potters eyes lit up. "Yes… sometimes they are great. Last year I was allowed to fly on a broom. I always wanted to give it a try." The light in his eyes disappeared again. "But usually the Special Days are rather boring. And sometimes really unpleasant. The last one was a little uncomfortable."

Did Potter really want to fool him into believing that he had never sat on a broom before? Severus had seen him fly. These were not the skills of a beginner. But he couldn't recognize any falsehood in Potter. The boy seemed to be telling the truth. He did not even seen to be aware of how unusual it was that he could immediately fly so well on the first attempt. And then the thing with the 'Special Days'. Merlin, Severus had known that Potter was terribly naïve, but up until now he had not classified him as absolutely unintelligent. Even if the did not see the photographer, the whole situation would have had to have made him at least suspicious at the least. Nevertheless, to him it was clear, that the photos were of the boy-who-lived… for the moment.

"Has your family ever told you about your parents?"

Potter was obviously surprised by the sudden change of topics.

"Aunt Petunia said that I should not ask questions. And that me parents died in the car crash, the same one where I got this scar." Potter felt his famous lightning bolt mark. "But Midas says that isn't true. It doesn't make sense. I mean, they were wizards. Why were they driving? Midas said it was an accident with floo powder. The powder was too old and as they went through the fireplace, something went wrong. When they came out at the other end, they were on fire. My mother protected me from the fire against her body and threw me clear as they arrived. I had only superficial burns and a cut on the forehead which I got when I tensed up falling. Midas says my mother must have loved me, because despite the pain and suffering, she protected me."

Severus did not know whether he should be furious that Midas had told Harry such a gruesome story, or relieved that at least he had provided one that showed the boy the love his parents had felt for him. One thing was certain in any case: Harry had no idea who he really was and what he meant to the Wizarding world. He had no idea that he had ever done any advertising. And he had no idea that it was he who financed the Dursley's extravagant life style, while he himself was locked up in these dilapidated rooms.

Severus's first impulse was to kidnap the boy himself, and take him to Hogwarts. But he was a spy for too long to act so rashly. If he were to do that, the ministry would insist he release the boy. Then even if Harry were to tell how he had been treated, there would be the danger that Midas would say that Dumbledore had instigated it to turn the boy against his relatives. Fudge certainly had no interest in seeing that the general public learned how he had handled with the welfare of the boy who had helped him to win a landslide election victory. The matter would be swept under the carpet, and Harry would be the loser.

No, it was better to leave the boy where he was for the moment, and develop a plan with Dumbledore now that they could prove once and for all that Petunia Dursley was not a suitable guardian for him. Severus reached for the dental mug.

"I'll bring you another cup of water, and then I will leave you alone. It would not be advisable if anyone found me here now." He threw Potter a piercing look. "Or to find out afterwards that I had been here."

"I understand." The boy seemed downcast. Severus was reluctant to leave him behind, but if the Dursleys or Midas found out about his visit he knew he wouldn't be employed here much longer. And he would have his memory obliviated. So he filled the cup one last time and put it beside Harry's bed, and left the room. With a heavy heart he closed the door and pushed the bolt back into place.


	23. Who to trust

**Chapter 23: Who to Trust**

The Dursleys did not seem inclined to let Harry out of his room too soon. After the night Professor Snape had been with him, he spent the entire day alone. Most of the time he slept, leaving the bed only occasionally to drink a little water from the tap. He was worried. Normally Midas ensured that during his 'house arrests' he got something to eat, and it seemed as if the Dursley's forgot that Midas was gone and they themselves had to worry about it. From long experience he knew that his 'cell' was escape proof. How long did a person need to starve? Harry didn't know exactly.

When on the next day someone started to open the door, Harry sat up with a relieved sigh. It was now noon, so he had already gone two full days since he had something to eat. He had not felt so hungry since he was forced to eat that hideous mush during that one Special Day.

Tensely he watched the door. He really hoped that it was Aunt Petunia coming through the door. Uncle Vernon would certainly not bring him anything to eat, not even if he begged for it. When Midas entered, Harry's face brightened. Not only because his protector was there again, but also because he carried a fully loaded tray in his hands and put it down beside Harry's bed.

"My goodness Harry!" Midas cried in place of a greeting. "You are deathly pale! Here, eat something."

Apparently he attributed Harry's pallor on the two days of fasting. The boy did not have any intention of correcting the mistake. Instead he reached voraciously instead for the bowl of steaming soup, and then tried to not eat it too fast. If he put too much in his stomach all at once, he knew he would only vomit.

"I thought you were going to be gone longer," he said casually.

Midas had sat down on the edge of the bed.

"There was an unexpected change of plans. I also can't stay with you long today. But tomorrow I will hopefully have a little more time."

Harry did not ask what exactly had changed his plans. He knew that he wouldn't get an answer. Midas had never given away more than he intended. While Harry spooned his soup, he thought about the fact that he actually knew very little about Midas.

"Hey!" Midas waved his hand in front of Harry's face. "Are you still there?"

Harry forced himself to smile.

"I'm just a little tired. Do you know when the Dursley's will let me out again?"

"If it were up to them, probably never. What were you doing trying to go into the playroom? You know that outside of Special Days, you are not to look in there.

"I know…" Harry did his best to act as contrite as possible. "I just wanted to play a little. The things in there are so nice. And the Nimbus 2000…"

Never before had he lied to Midas. However the wizard seemed to believe him. He smiled with understanding.

"You know that the things in there do not belong to you."

"I'll never do it again!" Harry promised fast. "I will never again try to get the broom."

Midas nodded and rubbed him comfortingly on the shoulder.

"I will try to ensure that you can fly it again soon, on another Special Day. But do not do such a thing again. You know how your relatives are."

Harry nodded again. It was a good feeling to know Midas was on the property. However he did not mention a word of his illness or of Snapes' night visit.

Harry would have liked to spoken with Midas about it. As far back as he could remember he was his only confidant, the only one who stood by him every now and then against the Dursleys. However, Professor Snape had really asked him to not tell anybody about his visit to the east wing, and Harry would have been very ungrateful, if he had betrayed him. He knew only too well that the Dursleys did not tolerate any wizards in the main house except Midas, Oldridge, and himself. And he didn't want to risk Professor Snape being dismissed because of him. Harry knew only too well that each new teacher was more likely a deterioration, rather than an improvement. Indeed, Professor Snape was very strict and sometimes unfair, but besides Midas he was the best teacher he had ever had.

Harry had had, as long as he could think, blind trust in Midas. He was the only one, who seemed to care about Harry's feelings, and he had never injured him, he had even often helped him if the Dursley's punished him. The only thing Harry sometimes had doubts about him was his behavior on the Special Days. Then Midas sometimes behaved so incredibly thoughtlessly towards Harry that he got the feeling that there was more at stake than Midas needing to keep his job with the Dursleys.

Professor Snape's secret visit had planted a little seed of doubt about the size of a tennis ball. Harry had been too ill the next morning to really reflect upon his strange questions, but his house arrest had left him a lot of time to think. What had Professor Snape meant when he spoke of a photo? The idea that someone was secretly photographing him bathe was quite disconcerting, particularly since Harry could hardly imagine why someone would want such a picture to begin with.

And then there were all those questions about his parents. Why did Professor Snape want to know so suddenly? What had the death of his parents have to do with a photo supposedly taken of him? None of this fit together.

Professor Snape knew something, but he was clearly not inclined to trust Harry. Harry found that extremely frustrating, however he didn't know what he could do about it. The sullen wizard was a person who knew how to keep a secret to himself. He would not reveal anything that he did not want to reveal.

Harry knew there was only place where he would maybe get some answers to his questions: the guesthouse. There had to be a reason why they kept him away from the playroom... or better, a reason why it existed at all. In addition, he still didn't have his medallion back. And this time he would be more careful and not get caught. Harry lay on his bed, staring at the dirty blanket, and forged his plans.

* * *

Severus listened in anxiously to Albus Dumbledore's pensieve memories of what had happened during his time on the Dursley property. He did not like what he heard at all. His replacement almost allowed the O.W.L. class to blow up. And then there were all the other warnings. Murdered unicorns! Centaurs murmuring of unfortunate signs. It was high time that he finally returned to the castle and got to the bottom of the matter. And these memories would be the key. Albus nodded to him to indicate that he was finished.

The headmaster looked like he had visibly aged when he left Severus' own pensive a half hour later.

"This is worse than I thought." He settled back into his chair behind the massive desk. "I knew that the Dursleys wanted nothing to do with magic, but… to treat their own nephew in such a way… after he had made so much money for them…"

Severus pulled up an eyebrow. He had actually expected that Dumbledore would be pleased.

"Now at least it should be easy to convince the Ministry of the tact that the boy must be removed from there," he noted.

Dumbledore still looked extremely depressed.

"We cannot present this matter to the Ministry quite yet. Even if they did believe you…"

Severus nodded in understanding. Fudge had to owe his election campaign victory in a large part to the headlines around Harry. He had promised his voters about the boy-who-lived welfare. If they found out Harry had been mistreated by his relatives, he would be extremely unpopular. Therefore, he would certainly suppress allegations of abuse if they were to adhere to official channels. They had to proceed more skillfully and make draw the right people's attention to Harry's situation.

But what would happen with Harry if this was accomplished? It would be really disastrous, if they saved the boy from his family and the Ministry absent-mindedly handed him over afterwards to some Death Eaters. Even with a good foster home his security had to be guaranteed. Into the late night hours talked and forged plans.


	24. Plans and truths

**Chapter 24: Plans and truths, Part 1**

Harry peered carefully around the corner of the guesthouse and looked around. It was a risky venture, to creep into the playroom during the bright light of day. However, Harry was not sure but what his uncle would lock him up for the next few nights. Vernon was extremely touchy because Midas (by pointing out to him that Harry's further absence from teaching would be difficult to explain) had persuaded to repeal his nephew's house arrest. And when he was in a bad mood, anything that happened was blamed on him.

Harry also knew with reasonable certainty that anyone who could be dangerous to him was currently busy elsewhere. Vernon and Petunia had gone to the golf club, Oldridge had made it a habit to sleep after lunch every day and Midas, after freeing Harry from his room, had disappeared into his study. Harry knew from experience that he would stay in there for at least one hour and would not be accessible. Which meant that the only one he could possibly meet was Professor Snape, but Harry was halfway convinced that he would not betray him.

In fact the property seemed to be completely deserted. Apparently, it should be easy now to sneak into the playroom. Apparently! Unfortunately Midas' study was right next to the entrance to the guest house. He would certainly hear immediately if Harry entered there, if he had not already seen him through the window.

So Harry stole a short ladder out of the gardener's equipment shed and crept behind the guest house in search of an open window. He was in luck! A casement window was ajar, behind it a curtain moved in the spring wind. Unfortunately, Harry had no idea what room it was.

He tried to think of the floor plan of the house. The guestrooms and the apartments of Midas, Oldridge and Snape were all on the first floor. His 'classroom' was on the first floor, but some windows further to the right. It could also not be the playroom. Harry recognized the brightly printed curtains at the (unfortunately closed) window further down.

Harry stared at the open window for a while. It was almost too easy. What if someone was in the room? What would happen if someone caught him sneaking in again? And then there was still Midas. Even if Harry was not sure if he was concealing something from him, the fact continued that Midas had done a lot for Harry. What would he say if Harry got caught once again going into a place where he had not right to be, shortly after Midas had ensured that he would not have to endure a punished for this same offense any longer?

But Harry wanted, no, he needed answers. And above all, he had to get back his medallion. It was his most valuable possession, his only memento of his parents. So he decided finally to simply take the risk. He placed the ladder against the wall and climbed up the rungs. The he paused to listen. A quiet rustle made him catch his breath, but it was only an animal which darted through the bushes. Otherwise nothing else could be heard.

He gathered all his courage, and pushed open the window completely and peered carefully into the room. His eyes were just over the window sill, but he could not recognize much, only grayish black wallpaper and dark blue sofas. But the room actually seemed to be empty, so he pulled himself up into the window frame and slipped over the window sill into the room.

Nervously he looked around. Then his jaw literally fell down. He was still in the playroom. At least it looked like it. Harry needed a while to orientate himself, but then he realized that he was behind the wall before which the bathtub (which had since been removed) had stood. He took a step, his right hand outstretched and groping. It actually encountered resistance. The wall was there, only invisible. At least it was invisible from this side.

With surprise Harry looked at the tripod which was set up in front of the wall. It was a tripod as one would use for a camera, a camera which would be directed toward the play room, the playroom, in which Harry had had a bath not too long ago.

Harry had seen enough. He left the room through the only door which, as soon as he had shut it behind him, seemed to melt completely into the wall. Well, that explained why he hadn't had the slightest idea that the area behind it even existed.

He entered the playroom. As he had expected, the wall from this side was not transparent. But that was secondary for the moment. Before he thought about it any further, he wanted to have his medallion again.

His hand slipped under the stuffed animals under which he had hidden it. He could not feel it. He set the soft toys carefully aside. He saw nothing. Seized by panic he hurled the toys away in his desperate search. However, this did nothing to change the results. The medallion did not appear.

In low spirits Harry sat in the room, which looked chaotic for the first time and therefore like a real playroom should look. Someone had found the medallion and taken it away. Maybe the photographer had seen how he had hidden it.

Thoughtfully Harry crouched between the surrounding toys and stared at the wall. This was the first time he had really noticed, that it was the only one that was not covered by pictures or shelves. The whole room was nothing but one enormous backdrop, only meant to set a scene. But what for?

It was for secretly shooting photos of him. Photos in which he did whatever Midas demanded of him. For instance, have a bath. Had he been photographed on all his Special Days?

Harry could only think of one purpose for that type of photo. He was in many ways naïve (as Dudley reproached him for over and over again), but not so naïve as he had been (Dudley's reproaches could be quite instructive). Someone seemed to take a perverse joy out of having photos of him. However the pictures had always been rather harmless, even in the bathtub. Midas had never… but could Harry ever really know with certainty? He knew that there were curses, which could possibly make him forget everything. But the Special Days with Midas had never been like that, as far as he remembered it. Maybe Midas had simply made him forget everything above a certain level.

Shuddering Harry hugged his arms around himself. He had trusted Midas, and he had used him. And Harry did not even know with certainty how he had been used.

But never again. Never again would he trust Midas. Never again would he take part in one of those Special Days.

* * *

Severus had watched Harry during the morning lessons intently. The boy was still very pale, but it did not look like he was still suffering from his illness. He did not move stiffly either. That was good. After seeing Harry's living conditions Severus had not been sure that the Dursleys where above beating him.

He really hoped Dumbledore's plan would work, but he did not held his hopes up. It was a shaky construct, depending on the ability of the old wizard to predict the actions of other people correctly. If anyone else had devised it, Severus would have been sure that it was doomed to fail. But Dumbledore had been a teacher in Hogwarts for years, long before he became Headmaster. He was good in reading people; especially those who he had seen grow up. Plus his seat on the Wizgamot was providing him with the necessary contacts and insights in Ministry structure. It could work.

Until then he had to provide Harry with the best protection possible. But he had also to make sure that his cover was not blow. Thankfully Harry seemed to have kept silent about Severus nightly visit. The boy was less stupid than Severus had initially thought and even halfway intelligent. Beside his worst subject, transfiguration, he was already further along than his peers should be in every subject, especially in Defense against the Dark Arts. Just now he showed his abilities in Charms by demonstrating a Drought Charm.

Severus frowned when some water drops were left in the cup on Harry's desk.

"Don't wave your wand around needlessly. Spare motions are the key to a perfect result."

Using Aguamenti he filled the cup again with water. "Try again."

This time, Harry managed to spell the cup totally dry. Severus nodded satisfied. "That's acceptable. You are dismissed."

Harry stood up to gather his learning material. But there was one last thing Severus needed to do, although he was reluctant to do it.

"And Mr. Potter?"

Potter paused.

"You dropped this! I would be pleased if you would not dirty the room with your clutter."

Potter surprised eyes darted between the Lily Potter amulet in Severus hand and his stony face back and forth. Then he collected himself.

"I won't do it again." He promised. Softly he added: "Thank you professor, I really missed it."

Severus watched how he clutched the amulet possessively for a moment before putting the chain around his throat and leaving the classroom.

* * *

Cornelius Fudge nodded to Dawlish, when the young Auror positioned himself at his side. He preferred him to the veterans. Aurors who had fought in the last war were always so frightfully serious and mindful of their obligations. Really ridiculous! _Who_ would attack _him_! The Auror should underline his status, nothing more.

Dawlish was a little looser. And he was a good source for information from the Department for Prosecution. Just recently he had carried to him some interesting news. The rumor went that Albus Dumbledore planned to file an appeal for Harry Potter's custody should the boy's performance at the forthcoming achievement test not fare well enough.

Cornelius smiled complacently. The old wizard would have no basis for such an appeal. Although he was minister, and had little influence over the Office of Magical Education, he could do something. For example, ensuring that the boy had the exam questions, would make sure his answers were all correct.

The thought of what Dumbledore's face would look like when he saw the test results, puffed Cornelius up even more. It always felt good whenever he could thwart Dumbledore's plans.

* * *

_a/n: Reviewer are asking quite often if there will be some sort of warning on the soap. The answer is: No! The essence of midnight juniper blossom is (at last in my HP-Universum) more or less in all cleaning products. But to get an allergic reaction you have to be exposed to it for a really long time (remember, Harry had to stay in the bath nearly the whole day). As Snape pointed out, this would normally be no issue since a sane wizard would not stay that long in the bath. In my mind, the allergie to the essence of midnight juniper blossom is actually quite common, but it gets rarely diagnosted because wizards are getting rarely exposed to it for a long time. (And yes, I know that a muggle allergie does not work this way, but since we are in the magical word, I can design is however I want. This is one of the peaks of the HP-Fandome). _

_Tomorrow you can read about the result of Dumbledores and Fudges schemings. And since we are nearing the end: I know, I said that you don't have to write a review if you only want to tell me that you like the story. But I really would like to read some con-critisism. You did NOT like a particular scene I wrote? Tell me! You think that something in the story is not logical? You HAVE to tell me that, because I really hate plot holes and I would never allow one knowingly in my story. You think the characters are OCC? I really did my best to write them belivable, but I am not sure if I did a good job doing it. In short: If you had fun reading the story you can reward me by helping me to improve my writing. And you can reward DracaDelirius by sending her a nice THANK YOU for doing all the translation work. _


	25. Plans and truths, part 2

**Chapter 25: ****Plans and truths, Part 2**

It was the end of May as Vernon Dursley, Midas Fox and Clarence Oldridge held and unplanned meeting in the drawing room of the main house. Vernon Dursley was pacing with heavy steps annoyingly from left to right and made, as always, no secret of his anger.

"If the boy does not obey, then we must force him to just do it. Some hungry days will tame him."

Midas suppressed, only with effort, the need to roll his eyes. Indeed, Vernon Dursley's idiocy was quite useful to him, but coupled with his quick temper it was also extremely strenuous.

"We can currently do nothing of the sort," explained Midas patiently. "Minister Fudge has informed me that Dumbledore is making another attempt to get Harry to Hogwarts. In two week is Harry's examination. If the examiner has even the slightest suspicion that something is not in order, we could lose everything."

"This mop advertising is important!"

Again Midas had to suppress rolling his eyes. The so-called mop advertising was a large scale campaign for the new Nimbus 2001 going on the market in the summer. Midas had actually thought that a Special Day with the broom would straighten out some things again. Recently Harry had been very distant from him. Whatever Midas had done to annoy him, perhaps the opportunity to be allowed to fly would make him forget it. But when Midas had only mentioned the word 'Special Day' Harry immediately fled from the classroom. It had been easy to find him again. But no matter what Midas said, Harry in no way wanted to participate in any Special Day. Even when Midas showed him the new broom, he remained steadfast, although his eyes shone with desire. And Midas knew Harry well enough to know that he could be dammed stubborn if he got something into his head. Bribery was not working, but he would not resort to violence quite so fast.

Midas would have ordinarily suggested himself to letting Harry starve a little and isolating him. But this time there were two immediate reasons for not doing so. First, Severus Snape would certainly distrustful if the boy missed any more lessons because of an alleged illness. Secondly, in two days times, Harry's knowledge assessment tests would take place. It would be fatal if the examiner from the Ministry were to discover anything suspicious. It was important that a completely healthy happy acting child was presented so that no one got the idea to come take a closer look at what exactly was taking place on the property.

"Can you not use m…" Dursley interrupted himself. "Can you not help him along?" he then demanded. For someone who was surrounded constantly by magic protective walls and was more than willing to live off the consumer purchases of wizards, he still found it hard to accept magic. However it had never prevented him from discussing magical punishments for Harry with Oldridge.

"No, I cannot!" Midas said without hesitation. Rather, he did not want. Indeed he could use the Imperius curse, but he had no intention of risking a lifelong stay in Azkaban. The years he would have to serve for his participations in the crimes of the Dursley, should they ever become known, were already threatening enough.

"I'll do it!" announced Oldridge at that moment, who until then had been leaning indifferently against the wall.

"You will not!" contradicted Midas sharply.

"Why not?" protested Dursley, "If he can do the right m… thingummy…"

"It is not about whether he can do the magic or not," Midas interrupted him, extremely undiplomatically and completely against his custom. "To use this curse is considered unforgivable in our justice system. He would be punished like a murderer."

"And who would accuse us? Oldridge said confidently. "The boy? A small _oblivate_ and nobody will ever know."

At least not for awhile, not until the boy eventually found out the truth and discovered that he had taken part in this advertisement. Sooner or later all the machinations would come to light. However Midas would prefer not to mention this. Dursley had not thought so far in advance as to what would happen once the boy turned of age, and Midas did not want to draw attention to the fact that his days in the lap of luxury were inevitably limited.

"I said no! As soon as this examination is over, I will convince him in the usual way. Nimbus can wait that long; the new broom won't be on the market until next school year."

"You did not let me finish!" blustered Dursley. "If I say the boy should be made to tow the line now, then you should kindly make it happen!"

This was to be expected. Dursley naturally had to again prove his (alleged) dominance. Midas knew from experience that it was better to let him believe he had control in all things.

"As you wish, Mr. Dursley. But do you really want to risk having the Ministry interfere here? A clever man like you knows that sometimes patience brings the better yields."

The flattery easily caused Dursley to visibly relax. His red face slowly took on a slightly more natural color.

"Too true! We wait. But in three days we will show that Satan's spawn where the hammer hits. Last time I was too soft on him! I will drive the stubbornness out of him once and for all!" With these words he stomped out of the room.

* * *

Griselda Marchbanks had worked for the Ministry for decades, and had administered hundreds of tests. Only a few really stuck in her memory, either because the students had been especially gifted, or because they had some especially unforgettable bad luck occur to them. She would never forget the student who in his examination transformed an owl into a yodeling splinter goat, instead of into a winter coat.

When she met with Midas Fox, she already knew that the examination of Harry James Potter would be similarly memorable. Not because the boy was such a celebrity. Fame was not anything that particularly impressed her. No, above all because of the special circumstances under which the examination would take place. She would always think back on it as the day, on which for the first time, she did not fulfill her tasks to her own satisfaction.

The reason for her displeasure was the examination questions which had been put together by the committee. One did not have to be a genius to recognize that the meeting was a farce. At least four of the seven committee members had clearly been bribed by Fudge or otherwise influenced. The list of questions which had been put together at least was probably the most ridiculous one which she had ever presented to a student for examination. Oh it corresponded perfectly to the guidelines, but it had not escaped her that the test sheet was as easy as possible without violating the rules.

Hence when she met Midas Fox who was waiting in the entrance hall of the Ministry for her, she greeted him very coolly. She remained taciturn as he took her to the property where Harry Potter resided. She critically examined the telescope, the lab and the small greenhouse in her examination, but found nothing objectionable. Accordingly strict, she then gazed at the boy to whom such special treatment was given.

He was quite small for his age and looked at her with big green eyes which were hidden behind cheap round eyeglass lenses. He was a little shy; however, he welcomed her with a normal than louder voice. His appearance was an odd mixture of uncertainty and self-awareness, but he showed no trace of arrogance.

Griselda observed with mixed feelings, how he worked on the test sheet with great seriousness. Apparently he did not know anything about the arrangement that Fudge had made for him. On the one hand she was glad that Harry was taking the examination seriously and had certainly thoroughly prepared for it. On the other had she now felt like a fraud since she did not give the small boy the opportunity to be able to evaluate his abilities realistically.

Griselda was not surprised when Harry delivered the test sheet nearly three quarters of an hour before the deadline. Now only the practical part was missing. Harry appeared completely confident in Charms and Defense against the Dark Arts. Transformation obviously demanded more of his concentration, but because the tasks were very easy, he also managed these faultlessly. In the greenhouse, he did not exactly give the impression that the field especially interested him, but once again he fulfilled his tasks with ease. Griselda looked at the clock. The examination had been purposly scheduled for late in the afternoon, so that it would be dark enough at the end to be able to carry out the practical astronomy test. She sent off Harry to eat before the evening examination continued with the practical test in Potions.

Midas led her into a small drawing room and served her dinner personally. Griselda couldn't help but be impressed by it. While she ate, she started to go through the examinations. As expected everything was correct. She was even comforted a little by this. If Harry had made mistakes on these easy questions, then she would have felt even worse passing him. But even so she still didn't really feel comfortable with it, even as she awarded one full score after another.

When she picked up the fourth test sheet, she stopped short. It concerned questions on the History of Magic. The first question was: "Name at least three powerful dark wizards." Amazingly Harry had written down Grindelwald, Mordreth, and Salazar Slytherin. Well, maybe he had not wanted to write 'Voldemort' and was simply reluctant to respond with 'he-who-cannot-be-named'.

Contented to have found an explanation, she gave it a full score and read the next question: "Describe the greatest crimes of the last dark wizard active in England and the events which lead to his demise." Harry had given a very detailed answer. However, he had not written about Voldemort, but about Grindelwald.

Griselda read the question once again. Yes, it was worded a little evasively (perhaps no one wanted to write the name 'Voldemort' or use one of those ridiculous empty phrases) but it was clear nonetheless what 'dark wizard' was meant. Her first impulse was to give Harry zero points and to go on to the next question… but then she hesitated. She knew that the exam was designed to be as easy as possible for Harry, but to ask him about the death of his parents… what had Fudge been thinking?

The subject was probably simply too painful for Harry. She thought about this. She was reluctant to give the boy even more special treatment, but she had seen two wars already, and seen too many orphans not to feel compassion for the boy whose misfortune had been celebrated by the entire magical community. She flew over Harry's remaining answers. All the questions revolved around Voldemort, but Harry had responded partially as if it was about Grindewald, and partially with some incoherent chicken-scratched sentences which pointed to the fact that he had guessed.

Griselda put the sheet aside and finished correcting all of the other tests. Something was still not quite right about the matter. Had Harry answered the questions wrong intentionally so that he would not have to write about his parents? The whole thing caused a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach.

When Harry returned punctually she still did not know what she should do. She instructed him on what he was to brew and observed him thoughtfully. While with absolute precision (as a student of Severus Snape nothing else would be expected) he cut roots, she asked herself whether perhaps he actually knew nothing at all about Voldemort. Ignorance of his status as the 'boy-who-lived' would explain his modest appearance. Maybe his relatives wanted to protect him against the truth about the death of his parents.

Only how then did they then explain the advertising contracts and all the money that he received, a lot of which apparently had flowed into this property? Something here stank immensely, and it was not the fumes from Harry's cauldron. Griselda threw a glance at the clock. Because Harry had finished with the written examinations so much faster than planned, they had the dinner break during the practical examinations earlier than intended. They would have a little time before they could begin the astronomy examination. Time which she would use to put some questions to Harry.

It was a furious Griselda Marchbanks who that same night stormed into the Ministry and got those in charge of the 'Department against the Abuse of Parental Rights toward Young Wizards' out of bed.

* * *

_a/n: Only two chapters and an epilogue left now. One chapter I will post tomorrow, one is ready in German but not translated yet and the Epilogue will be written until the end of the week. Sorry, no use to beg, you will have to wait a little bit for the ending, but I promise, I will not leave you with a big cliffhanger._


	26. Scandal Surrounding Harry Potter!

**Chapter 26: Scandal Surrounding Harry Potter!**

**Scandal in the ministry! In-laws of Boy-who-lived becoming Outlaws?**

Severe allegations have been raised by Griselda Marchbanks, member of the Department for Education, against Harry Potter's nearest relatives. According to her, there are many indications to support the fact that basic knowledge about the wizarding world, and his own position in it, has been withheld from the boy. In addition, the money he has earned in advertising revenue has been embezzled.

Nine years ago, the custody of the Savior of the Wizarding World, was granted to his aunt after a lengthy process. Albus Dumbledore had raised complaints on the grounds that he was concerned about Harry appearing in advertising campaigns. However, in the course of the process, additional questionable motives were uncovered, which had painted the head of the Wizengamot in an unfavorable light. At the time, Mr. and Mrs. D. (the full name withheld for security reasons) represented themselves in the best light, and pretended they wanted to save the income from the advertising contracts for Harry's later education. As it turns out, this was a lie.

According to the initial findings, Mr. and Mrs. D. opened an account neither with Gringotts, nor with a Muggle bank, in Harry's name. Instead, all income flowed into their own accounts – and was squandered in its entirety. This fact, in connection with the statement made by Griselda Marchbanks, who is respected for her reliability and unconditional honesty, led to the provisional arrest of Mr. and Mrs. D. In the meantime, Harry Potter has been placed under the supervision of the Ministry.

Midas Fox, consultant in magical matters to the family D., was not available for comment. Minister Fudge, whose incompetence in recent years has been reported several times by this reporter, said in a hastily called press conference that he will make every effort to completely clear up the matter.

The Daily Prophet promises its readers to keep a close eye on the process. We will not rest until Harry Potter receives justice!

See also:

A review of the custody process. Page 2-5

Is the Wizengamot corrupt? Page 6-8

Harry Potter's advertising contracts: How much are they worth? Page 9-14

(From the Daily Prophet, 19.05.1992, written by Rita Skeeter)

**

* * *

**

The Boy-who-knew-nothing!

For years, the face of Harry Potter smiled at us from every third billboard in Diagon Alley. For years, wizards bought the products promoted by him in the firm conviction that the most popular boy in the world of advertising stood for honesty. For years, we thought we knew everything there was to know about the boy-who-lived… what his favorite toy was, which shampoo he used, and what he prefers to eat.

It is now apparent that the happy child was only a façade behind which a tragic fate was hidden. At the tender age of just one year, he was orphaned and placed with relatives who, as it turns out now, feared magic. The family D. took the in the helpless baby unwillingly, sure of the fact that "this freak of nature did not deserve their charity", announced Petunia D. in her questioning in a shrill, spiteful voice.

That did not stop them, however, from abusing the innocent child for their own purposes. When Harry was just three years old, they signed a lucrative advertising contract for miracle diapers. These and subsequent advertisements with the boy-who-lived were so successful that Vernon D. soon retired from his job and the entire family lived off from the advertising revenue.

But while Harry was now the sole provider of the family, he was still treated like an outsider. While the family gave the appearance to the outside that the child's protection was their primary concern, they held Harry like a prisoner on a large estate, which had been bought by his own money.

Even when advertising photographs were taken, any contact with the outside world was effectively prevented a photographer confirmed to us: "We were always told that it was a matter of having the pictures as natural as possible. So we were always hidden from Harry's view. Then Midas Fox would tell the boy what to do, and we would shot our pictures. Afterwards Harry was taken away immediately."

Unbelievable but true! The Harry Potter, who has been presented to us all these years, is nothing but an illusion! The room, in which he was so often seen, is in reality nothing more than a backdrop, furnished with toys that Harry was only allowed to play with during promotional shoots. In truth, his scantily furnished room was in a dilapidated outbuilding on the property. A room, whose only entrance was a heavy door with a large bolt lock.

Not only was the love of a family and his freedom, kept from Harry, but also the truth about his own fame was hidden from him. When questioned by the ministry, it turned out that he had not been told about his fame from either the destruction of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named or from the advertising campaigns.

This reporter is shocked by these revelations. The grave fate which Harry Potter had to suffer is a disgrace to the Wizarding world. For years we have looked at the smiling mouth and ignored the suffering in the eyes of our savior. But now the time has come to hold all those who have wronged him accountable! Last night Mr. and Mrs. D. were taken to Azkaban where they will remain until trial.

See also:

Magic jurisdiction for Muggles. Page 2-3.

Mass Murderer or Orphanage: Who is Harry Potter's guardian? Page 4-6.

(From the Daily Prophet, 21.05.1992 written by Rita Skeeter)

**

* * *

**

Revelations over Harry Potter trigger Economic Chaos!

An outcry of indignation went up one week ago by the magic world as it became known that Harry Potter was not aware of his own fame. Since then, manufacturers who have promoted their products with his photo have suffered massive sales losses.

"Up until now, I have bought every product which he had recommended", explained Doris C. "But now I feel not only cheated, I am also indignant about the way in which this small boy has been exploited. The responsibility for everything that he had to suffer lays not only with his relatives, but with those who paid to have him abused in this manner."

Meanwhile, the Nimbus Company, which promoted last year's Nimbus 2000 with Harry Potter, responded to these allegations with a press release. "We assure you that we at no time were aware of the questionable circumstances under which the photographs were taken. But we have reacted immediately and have changed the advertising that was planned for the Nimbus 2001. Although we have already investing into the originally planned campaign, we naturally will not insist on a fulfilling of the contract. Like all wizards, we only wish that Harry Potter will lead a happier life in the future."

Meanwhile, all contracts, which Harry Potter's relatives signed in his name, have been declared null and void. All their accounts in the Muggle world have been frozen, and their possessions confiscated by the Ministry.

"The family has spent the gold freely. Nevertheless, a considerable fortune still remains. For the time being, we have transferred the contents of most of the accounts to Gringotts into a new vault which has been made available to Harry Potter. Once the trial is over, the fortune will presumably be awarded to him in its entirety. It is expected that all real estates and all objects of value will be sold."

In the meantime, Gringotts was extremely please about the recent developments. For years, the Wizards Bank was extremely indignant over the large sums of money for the vaults of wizarding advertisers flowing into the muggle world. "We guarantee that Harry Potter will be very satisfied with our services," proclaimed the goblins on Tuesday.

See also:

Harry Potter Profiteer: Who profited from the abuse of the Boy-who-lived?

Cornelius Fudge: Not-knowing or All-knowing?

Where is Midas Fox?

(From the Daily Prophet, 28.05.1992, written by Rita Skeeter)

**

* * *

**

Hogwarts Curse: Real danger or myth?

Two weeks ago, Quirinus Quirrel, Hogwarts teacher for Defense against the Dark Arts, was found dead. He is the fourth teacher of this subject to die over the last twenty one years before he could reach his second year teaching. However, the first one who was not a victim of the war against You-Know-Who.

Already since 1971, no teacher has held the position for longer than one year. Even if the last teachers left Hogwarts for personal reasons, and not due to serious misfortune, the rumor persists that the position is cursed. Now the death of Quirinus Quirrell has experts puzzling. During the investigation a source from St. Mungos stated that the back of his head had been blown away. Hysterics assume now that the curse found a new victim.

But is this true?

In fact, the explanation for the sudden death of Professor Quirrell is much easier. Well informed sources state that the young wizard always wore a turban… an unadvisable action in consideration of the colony of wrackspurts which has reported nested in Hogwarts (we reported about that in our last issue). Wrackspurts ordinarily strike people only for a short time, since they feel too unprotected with us. The turban must have been a welcoming refuge for them, which is why they nested more and more in Quirrell's brain. From then on, it was only a question of time, until something would frighten them in such a manner that they all broke off at the same time and thus destroyed their host.

The circumstance that ignorance of his own specialty led to the death of Professor Quirrell has cast the quality of teaching at Hogwarts in a very questionable light. Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, however, has told this reporter that he would immediately take care of the wrackspurt problem. "There will be no further deaths due to wrackspurt infestation," he assured

(From The Quibbler, 06.06.1992, written by Xenophilius Lovegood.)

* * *

_A/n: I have decided to upload this a little bit early, so that you will have time to read in this sunday. I hope, I will be able to upload the ending soon (completly written in German but not yet translated), but either way, I don't think that this is a terrible cliffhanger. The next chapter will be about Harry's perspective on the changes in his life. I should be up soon, but certainly not tomorrow. _

_I know, it was very subtle, but who managed to catch on what Dumbledore has done? I even wrote an extra hint in this version, so perhaps it is a little bit clearer this time around. _

_This week I will start some sort of experimental ff, so if you are getting bored, you can snoop around there. It will be called "The Ballade of True History" and is completly different from everything I tried here, but it will be in english. For the German speaking readers: I intend to write another One-Shot for the "One Moment in Time series". The plot bunnies simply don't want to leave me alone. _


	27. Changes

**Chapter 27: Changes**

The next few weeks were bewildering to Harry. It began when Mrs. Marchbanks had suddenly looked angry during the examinations and had asked him many questions about his life. This had made Harry extremely nervous. Midas had warned him in advance, that he wouldn't be able to continue teaching him magic, if he delivered a poor performance. Worrying over how he had done plagued Harry even in his sleep.

_Mountains of test sheets about the history of magic towered up before him and questions, which made no sense, were being called to him from all sides. Harry startled out of his bad dream. Breathing heavily he sat for a long moment on his bed then, with shaky hands, he wiped his wiped the sweat from his forehead. He needed a little air! Over the cool wooden floor, Harry ran to the window and opened it. Inhaling deeply he started to lean a bit too far out. Then he faltered in the movement. Midas was standing on the lawn next to a large trunk, and he was waving his magic wand. The wrought-iron gate and the high brick wall of the property glowed weakly in a bluish light. Small sparks sprayed through the air, and Harry himself was surrounded by shining lights. Harry looked with astonishment at his shimmering arms, uncertain whether or not he might still be dreaming._

_Suddenly it was dark again. Now Midas was only a dark shadow on the black meadow. And yet Harry __was able to recognize that his friend was looking up at him. Harry waved to him, and the shadow bowed. Then he head a soft __'Pop'__ and Midas disappeared along with his trunk. _

_Harry was burning to ask him what had just happened. But the next day, Midas did not appear for lessons. Harry had been wai__ting a half an hour for him, a book on the history of magic open before him, and full of questions about the events of the day before, when finally the door opened and in stomped Professor Snape._

"_At least he had the presence of mind to remove the Fide__lius before he made his getaway," fumed Snape. Harry looked at him questioningly. He had the impression that Snape was speaking more to himself than to him. But Snape never spoke to himself. He was always perfectly controlled._

"_If they come, it is probably better if we make ourselves ready," this time Snape was speaking to him, but Harry really couldn't completely follow him._

"_Ready for what?" he asked._

"_The approach of self-righteous, pretentious wizards! Here, take it and under no circumstances let it out of your hand."_

_Harry did not understand why the style of wizards was something to be worried about,* but he accepted his wand only too gladly from Professor Snape. Without this insignificant piece of wood, he always felt incomplete._

_Suddenly, a tremendous noise came from outside, as if a dozen cars had all backfired at the same time. Harry raised his wand and wanted to run to the window to see what was going on. But Professor Snape blocked his way and instead pushed him into a corner of the room._

"_Stay there!" he commanded him. "And follow my instructions!"_

"_Are we in danger?" Harry asked anxiously. The security measures, which Midas had placed on the property, had always seemed excessive. However maybe there were good reasons for it._

"_No, I only want to make sure that if there is a battle you are not injured."_

_The door was torn open and a man in red robes with raised wand stormed inside. With his mane of yellowish-brown hair shot through with streaks of gray, he looked like a lion on the hunt. Harry wanted to raise his wand, but Snape held his arm firmly._

"_Midas Fox has fled. The only other wizard on the property is Clarence Oldridge. You may be able to find him two rooms further down the hall," he said to the man._

"_We have already arrested him. Severus Snape, I presume?"_

_Snape nodded his head in agreement._

"_Hand over your wand!"_

"_Am I under arrest?"_

_Harry, who now understood that the man was an Auror, threw him a surprised look. He could not imagine that the professor could have done something bad._

"_Not yet. We only want to question you."_

_Now Harry was really confused. As Professor Snape handed his wand over, other wizards poured into the room. Harry tried to remain next to Professor Snape's side, but a young man with dark skin held him firmly as his teacher was led away. Harry struggled against his grip, but the man did not let go._

"_Don't worry Harry. We are only here to help you."_

"_I don't understand…"_

"_Your relatives are under the suspicion of having not met their obligations appropriately. Will you answer some questions for me?"_

"_But Professor Snape…"_

"_We only want to determine whether he helped them to hide their actions."_

"_But he helped me! He saved_ my _life!"_

"_Why don't you tell me about it? The sooner I know about it, the sooner we can let him go again." _

Thus, Harry told the Auror, who introduced himself as Kingsley Shacklebolt, everything that Snape had done for him. And then he had to answer all kinds of questions about his life with the Dursleys, and about Oldridge, and Midas, and finally about 'the-boy-who-lived' (and expression about which he knew nothing).

Then Shacklebolt had shown him a wizard's magazine with the name _'Witch Broomstick_. Harry stared incredulously at a picture of himself flying on the Nimbus while racing through exploding fireworks. Under it was the inscription: The boy-who-lived flies safely into the new year on his Nimbus!"

The story, that Harry got to hear then, was so unfathomable that he did not react for quite a while. He needed to process the news. A powerful wizard had murdered his parents, and he himself was famous for having destroyed him. For years, the Dursleys had secretly made photos of him for promotional campaigns. The property, the servants, everything had all been paid for by his money. Midas had betrayed him.

This last idea floated over all the others. Midas had betrayed him! Sure, ever since he had discovered the secret room, it was something that Harry had suspected. But the confirmation still hit him hard. A part of him was relieved that he now knew what the hidden camera had been used for, but that was a small consolation. The one person, who he had always thought had cared about him at least a little, was the main person responsible for his years of captivity. And now? What was to become of him now?

At first, he remained on the property. The Aurors had dismissed the servants after their memories of the raid had been modified. They now believed that the Dursleys had been arrested due to tax evasion.

Snape was released after his interrogation, and was asked to watch over Harry while some remaining issues were cleared up. The Aurors probably thought (and not unreasonably so) that Harry would feel more comfortable in his familiar surroundings with someone he knew better. So someone had gone into Harry's room, packed his personal belongings, and had bought them to the guesthouse for him. The main house was closed, and Harry slept for the first time in the play room that previously he had only been allowed to enter on special days.

Snape took his role as watchdog very pragmatically. In the mornings, he continued teaching, in the afternoons he allowed Harry to stay outside (mostly he was flying), and in the evenings, he had him doing homework. The meals, which magically appeared three times a day, they ate together in the sunroom. Harry had many questions. However, Snape did not turn out to be especially willing to answer them. Thus, Harry merely found out that his teacher had been sent by Dumbledore because he was concerned about his well-being. The thought that there had actually been someone who after all these years, had taken an interest in his fate, filled Harry with a warm feeling.

Despite all the confusion, Harry had quickly become accustom to living in the guesthouse. But that morning an owl had brought a letter, which announced more changes to come.

"The lessons end today," explained Snape, after he had scanned over its contents. "Instead, you will pack your things. We leave this evening. Consider well what you want to take. You will not be returning here."

"Never again?" Harry asked uncertainly.

"At least not for the next few years. I believe I recall that in your room is a travel suitcase, for which you have advertised several times. You may fill that. I am not ready to take any more baggage for you than that on our journey."

"Where will we be going?"

"Hogwarts," answered Snape briefly. "Professor Dumbledore has been awarded your temporary custody."

The idea of a strange wizard suddenly being his guardian was frightening to Harry, even if he did seem to only have the best of intentions, but the thought of Hogwarts cheered him up again. To be allowed to go to a normal school! He had always dreamed of it. Hastily he finished his toast and went immediately to work.

He proceeded methodically. The first compartment he planned for his small bundle of personal things, which had been brought to him from his old room. Up to now, he had only retrieved clothes now and then. Fortunately, Snape had insisted only two days ago on a wash day, therefore most of his clothes were now clean, neatly ironed, and folded in the closet. Without wasting his time Harry packed up all his clothes, and then added his wash things. Although the inside of the suitcase was greater than the outside had been, one of the four compartments was already filled.

Next, he roamed throughout the classrooms. Many of the books found their way into the suitcase, likewise (under Snape's approving looks) his equipment for potions. Then he turned with a heavy heart again to sort through his private possessions.

There was the yo-yo, the first gift that Midas had given him, a wristwatch, a penknife, a flashlight, a Flummi**, a braided leather belt, and some colored markers that were mainly dried up. However, there were even magic items: a candle that would never burn down, a pack of self shuffling cards and the Lunascope that he had received for Christmas. In addition, in a small wood box, were some wooden figurines that he had carved himself, and the four lead figures, which had been left over from New Year's Eve.

The small wooden box with the figurines was packed into the suitcase without further thought. The magic items likewise, and also the penknife and wristwatch, two items he didn't want to do without by any means. The markers were of no further use, and he doubted that a flashlight would be useful at Hogwarts. That just left the yo-yo, the Flummi, and the leather belt. He really wanted to take these things too. But wouldn't they just remind him of Midas? On the other hand, they symbolized the few pleasant memories that he possessed. He put them down beside the suitcase.

That left only one compartment still empty and a little space in one other. Besides that, there was also a broom holder in the suitcase. On the wall were Harry's Nimbus 2000, and the Nimbus 2001 Harry had discovered when he was moved into the room. In the last few weeks, he had always used the Nimbus 2001, not only because it was the better broom, but also because it didn't remind Harry of the two special days in which he thought Midas was the greatest person on earth. Now he packed it into the suitcase, while Harry didn't even bother to look at the Nimbus 2000.

Now he looked at the mountain of toys piled up before him. Harry could hardly decide what he should take. An practice snitch, a miniature Quidditch field with animated brooms, a magic railroad with a red-painted train, a glass ball with a cozy looking village inside (at the moment the sun was shining, but Harry had already seen it with snowflakes, sleet, autumn leaves, summer flowers, and spring rain), a colorfully illustrated fairy tale book named "The Tales of Beedle the Bard", and a (randomly selected) animated stuffed tiger, finally found their way into his suitcase. Then he looked one last time at the three items, which lay beside it. There was still room. With a sigh, Harry packed them.

* * *

The journey began extremely unpleasantly. Snape simply seized Harry's arm and apparated them both away along with their luggage. Harry decided that he liked the feeling of being squeezed together even less than the whirling feeling of the portkey.

After Harry had recovered from the feeling, he looked around. They were at a small, deserted railway station. Beside the platform, Harry recognized the outline of a horseless carriage, and in front of it stood the biggest man that Harry had ever seen. With tears in his eyes, he stormed the terrified boy and hugged him to him with his strong arms. Now Harry felt even more squeezed than he had before.

"Hagrid!" Snape greeted him and interrupted the embrace before Harry could suffocate. "What are you doing here?"

"I am here to fetch Harry." Hagrid explained while he heaved the luggage into the carriage. "Dumbledore wants him to take the boat."

"Does he? Well that's fine with me. Harry, go with Hagrid…"

Harry looked at Snape uncertainly.

"But… you're not coming with me?"

"Hagrid will watch out for you quite well. He's brought first year students over the lake for years and so far none of them have drowned, or been eaten by the giant squid."

Harry would have bitten off his tongue rather than admit that it was Hagrid himself that frightened him (even after finding out about the dangers of the giant squid, which so far he had not considered). Besides, with Snape, his objections would have just fallen on deaf ears. He had already climbed into the carriage, which drove away as if being pulled along by invisible horses. So Harry gathered all of his courage together and let himself be led down to the lake. In the distance, on the far side of the shore, he could see a castle, its countless towers and battlements stood out against the dark night sky.

Harry forgot his fear of Hagrid quickly. The enormous man spoke of nothing more than how happy he was to see Harry. Besides, it was also the first time that Harry had been in a boat. Once he grew accustomed to the feeling, he even dared to let his fingertips glide across the water.

"Best not do that," advised Hagrid. "It could attract some of the more unfriendly inhabitants of the lake."

As if in confirmation, up rose a mass of green, wild haired heads. Harry immediately pulled his hand back and felt for his magic wand.

"Don't worry, those are just the merpeople. Probably heard you were coming today to Hogwarts. But normally they are not interested in the students I bring."***

Harry found the glowing yellow eyes and the sharp teeth extremely menacing. Although none of the merpeople tried to get too close to them, he was glad when they left them behind.

At last, they approached the castle. All the windows were illuminated and the lights reflected in the black lake. As the small boat glided into a tunnel in the rock, on which it had been built, Harry felt like he had come home.

_a/n: *This passage was a little difficult to translate. In the German version Harry is misunderstanding Snapes use of the word "Einfall" because he is thinking about an idea whereas Snape talks about an attack. That was not really translatable, because there isn't a word in english with has this two meanings and sounds the same. To use "approach" instead was the best solution we could think of, but it is far from perfect. _

_** A Flummi is a special kind of ball which was very popular during the 80__th__. It is small, very springy and normally very colorful. Since Harry is growing up during the 80__th__ I thought it would be a fitting toy for him. I am not sure if there is a special name for it in English (Flummi isn't even an official word in German), so I left it unchanged. _

_*** I barely manage Hagrids speech pattern in German, don't expect me to do them in English. _

_I will post the epilogue before the end of the week. If you have any questions about the story, please ask now so that I can add any additional explanation that may be necessary. _


	28. Epilogue

Epilogue

_Translator's note: __I hope that you enjoyed Swanpride's story as much as I did! :) And please accept my regrets for any typing or translation errors or wrong words you may have found in any of the chapters, and of any of the German words that I accidentally left in the English version. The mistakes were all mine and due to my poor and selfish attempt to take Swanpride's wonderfully creative story and write it in English so that I could understand it better. I know I mangled it a bit in places, so if you read German at all, I would suggest you also read her original version, which has lots of clever wording that I just couldn't get. Sorry. Sincerely, DracaDelirus. _

_Author's note: Actually that is not true at all. Some mistakes where mine, because I decided to rewrite something in the last minute. Sometimes there were already mistakes in the original version. DracaDelirius did a really good job, especially considering that she does not speak German at all, had never done a translation before and had to deal with the special vocabulary of the wizard world (An example: Diagon Alley is called "Winkelgasse" in German, which got always translated into Cornerstreet. Especially the names of the spells and plants were very complicated, too__). There were some mistakes we missed, and I tried to correct them whenever someone pointed them out to me. For this last chapter, a professional translator offered to look over the text and naturally I accepted, because there can never be enough eyes looking for mistakes, and I did not intend to post this last chapter before the German chapter version either way. The complete (and slightly reworked) German version can now be read on Animexx. I think I would have never managed it without DracaDelirus, who helped me to overcome my very last writers block. Without her encouragement, I would have never written the last two chapters that fast. But I also thank everyone who left me reviews, especially the long and critical ones, and everyone who pointed out mistakes to me. I thank my German Betas KatharinaB and Talvinen, who often helped me with their comments to make a chapter a little bit better. And I thank Amy, for correcting this Epilogue. I am especially fond of the ending and so is DracaDelirus, so I really wanted it to be as perfect as possible. _

_Other Translator Note: __I offered to get my wife to go through the epilogue and other chapters. She went through both DracaDelirus' translation and Swanpride's original German version. She corrected a few mistakes and added a few words for grammar purposes. Zeropolis79_

* * *

Midas Fox left his suitcase to float beside the bed and stepped near the window. The wizard's beach of Ko Samui stretched out before him. Only a few wizards lived on the island, and those that did were only too happy to keep to themselves. Muggles never understood why the land near the "ugly, rocky bay" was so much in desire, but anyone who was anyone among Thai wizards, owned at least one small house there.

Midas's house was anything but small, and it was at the very end of the promenade, where dozens of wizards offered their products for sale. It was close to the action, but not in the middle of it, exactly as Midas loved it. And he loved the view of the white beach and the bright blue sea. Therefore (and because Thailand did not have an official magical government which could have extradited him), he had chosen this place as his retirement home. So, seven years ago he bought this house, although it was a little too small for his tastes (only 15 rooms). He made sure that no one knew about it, and that no one would be able to trace the acquisition back to him. Then for seven years he avoided the place, so that later he would be able to hide here. His caution had paid off.

Sighing, he spread out his personal belongings throughout the room. He traveled with light luggage, and only had the bare necessities of clothing with him, but there were some things that he had no intentions of leaving behind, the quilt cover that his mother had once crocheted for him when he was a child, and some very costly magical objects. Since he had been forewarned, he had had enough time to pack in peace.

Once again, he congratulated himself for his brilliant inspiration with the surveillance bugs. Because wizards had always looked for and could only trace magical charms, not even Oldridge had ever found out that every single room in the guest house had been bugged. The most difficult part had been the receiver that he had charmed so that with certain key words an alarm would immediately go off. Initially, the technology kept failing, but in the end, he had modified the device in such a way that not only individual words but also the context, in which they were said, could be classified as dangerous or safe.

For years, the alarm had remained silent – until the day that Severus Snape had entered the property. Midas, who was only slightly younger than Snape, had noticed him for the first time at the end of his second year, when James Potter had publically humiliated him. Over the next two years, he had seen other times when Snape and his obsessive pure blood Slytherin friends had ruled the school. When he had hired him, Midas had been more worried about his ties to Death Eaters, than his links to Harry's parents.

In the beginning, he had kept an especially sharp eye on him. Even if he was careful to avoid Harry coming in contact with a fanatical fan, having him murdered for power or revenge, was equally undesirable. The boy would be no use to him dead.

His worries proved to be groundless. Snape did not show any interest in harming Harry, nor was he overly friendly. He was such a perfect private tutor for Harry that he himself decided to overlook it when Petunia came to him and reported his connection with Lily. How could he have been so deceived? Was he really convinced that Snape represented no danger? Or that he would be able to keep him under control? Or had he unconsciously left him alone, probably knowing that the date for an early retirement grew closer the older Harry became?

This had never really been clear to the Dursleys, and that was all right with Midas. The Dursleys would not have been able to keep Harry locked away after he turned 17, no matter how much they tried. The magical community would take their fury out on them and on Oldridge (for his sadism, thus it was occasionally useful, even though he abhorred it), and he himself would soon be forgotten. The general public was inclined to have a very short memory as soon as their craving for revenge is satisfied.

Midas could still not believe that ultimately it was not Snape, but the examination, that had been fatal. He had actually hoped that he would still be able to pull off the ad campaign for Nimbus. It wasn't to be. However, the generous bonuses, which he had negotiated for himself over the years, were more than enough to guarantee him a carefree life.

Contentedly he placed the last object, a picture frame, on his desk and started towards the beach. A boy with green eyes and messy hair peered from the wooden frame decorated with carvings and waved happily after him.

_

* * *

_

Author's note: So, that's it for now. I realize that there are still some questions left. I will try to

_ answer as many as possible now, and there are always a lot of additional explanations in my profile, if you are interested. _

_Dumbledore's Plan: I know, it was very subtle so not everybody may have caught on. Dumbledore tricked Fudge into using his influence to make sure that Harry would get easy questions on his test. Then Dumbledore used his influence to add the Voldemort questions. Since the wizards Fudge influenced thought that Harry would answer those questions easily, they did not object but supported Dumbledore's plan unknowingly. Dumbledore also took care that someone influential and impartial would be the tester. _

_Did Fudge know what the Dursleys did? Let me answer with a question: Does he know that Lucius is a Death Eater? _

_ATTENTION! THERE ARE SPOILERS FOR THE SEQUEL IN THE LAST TWO ANSWERS!_

_What happened to Quirrel? Voldemort, knowing that it was dangerous to stay with his host any longer, left his body after he wasn't able to steal the stone from the mirror, killing him in the process._

_What happened with the Dursleys? And Dudley? Well, the Dursleys are (contrary to Rita's article) in a holding cell in the ministry. The trial will be a theme of the sequel. Dudley is still in Smeltings for now. His fate will also be decided in the sequel. _


End file.
